ROTBTD: Hogwarts Storybook
by LegendaryRaconteuse
Summary: This covers the adventures of the big four before their seventh year at Hogwarts and is a supplementary work to my previous story "Four Against Fear", which covers the big adventure of their seventh year. Rated K-Plus, but some innuendoes may allude to a T rating. Please read Author's Note (chapter 1) for more information.
1. Author's Note

Author's Note

Hey guys! This is, as the description said, a story about the adventures of the big four at Hogwarts leading up to their seventh year. This is a collection of stories happening in no particular order (one entry could be sixth year and the next entry could jump down to third) and each entry is entirely its own plot. This isn't a book filled with different chapters as much as it is a volume filled with different stories. Occasionally, multiple chapters will be part one/part two/part three of the same story, but for the most part, each individual chapter is its own story. It will be updated frequently and go on hiatus quite a bit, as this is only a side project I'm doing out of popular demand after finished my original ROTBTD story of the big four in their seventh year. If you want to read it (and reading it might make a little more sense of this storybook) the link is here: s/9866992/1/ROTBTD-Four-Against-Fear

These are told in the third person narrative but are not omniscient narration, so one story would be, for example, from Hiccup's point of view where you can only get inside of his head and thoughts, but I wouldn't be using the first person (I, me, my) so it's easier when I switch to, say, Rapunzel's point of view for the next story.

The previous ROTBTD novel I wrote about their seventh year (see the link above) is a story with more plot, angst, foreshadowing, suspense, and basic overall literary structure. That book tied more into the worlds of Jack, Merida, Rapunzel, and Hiccup while putting them in Hogwarts.

This book, however, is a little more canonically aligned with the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and, while it takes place in the late 1600s, is going to have references to characters you already know from Hogwarts (mainly professors). I'm not going to be including characters like Harry or Voldemort or others like that, because it might take away from the ROTBTD world.

Basically, think of this like a TV show. Every "episode" (chapter) has its own little plot, but its all tied to one world. And it jumps around in time. A lot. Like Doctor Who.

I mentioned that I'm writing this partially because it was fan-driven. Don't worry; I want to do this for myself, too, so I will retain my writing quality. My point is: if you have something you want me to write for this storybook, comment in the reviews or send me a private message. Unless it messes with continuity in my original story (again, the link is above), there is a 99% chance I could put it in here, and credit your username as inspiration.

Again, I know I really keep throwing this in your face, but I encourage you to read my first ROTBTD novel before reading this storybook. Even though that book chronologically takes place after these stories, it might help make a little more sense. Thanks for sticking by me, my wonderful readers. This storybook is for you!


	2. Merida's First Quidditch Match

Merida's POV: Second Year

The last thing Merida wanted was to revisit the memory. But her subconscious decided to vividly and accurately depict the scene from first year in her dreams that night.

"Ok, class," Madam Hooch called. "Mount your brooms!"

Merida eagerly straddled her leg over her Fireblot, her birthday present from her parents the previous summer. Eleven was a special age. It signified Merida DunBroch was ready to enroll at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, ready to learn the magic her family had practiced generations and generations before her. She would learn charms, potions, spells, and even how to fly a broomstick. First-years' Flying Classes, she was sure, would prove to be her favorite.

"Jump up on the count of three! Don't hesitate! Your brooms will naturally take flight with you!" Madam Hooch instructed. Merida looked to her left and right, where the other first-year Gryffindors lined up, facing the first-year Slytherins opposite them with malice and challenge. The rivalry between these houses had always been strong, and it was no more stronger than it was in the esteemed school sport, Quidditch. The whole reason they had this class was to learn to fly broomsticks for their house Quidditch team. Why would the school be as so daft as to put these two most competitive houses together for this particular class?

"One!" Madam Hooch's bellowing voice snapped Merida back to reality. She eyed the first-year Slytherin standing opposite of her- tall, lanky, brown hair, amber eyes. "Two!" Jack Frost smirked at her, and Merida couldn't help but smile back. The house competitiveness dissolved and was replaced with a friendly challenge. "Three!" Everyone jumped in the air and flew no higher than two meters or so before crashing into one another and flopping down onto the ground.

Merida watched the scene below her and found it quite comical. Then her gut twisted. The scene far, far, far below her. She continued rocketing higher into the sky. Jack was in front of her, laughing. "Do you see them down there? They look hilarious! Hey, Merida! We're the only ones who can fly." Jack lifted a hand off his broomstick and leaned forward to high-five her.

Merida looked up from the ground scores of feet below, her face chalky with fear. Blood rushed from her knuckles as she gripped the broomstick tighter. She fought to give Jack a smile. But he'd already seen her face. "Merida, are you ok?" He stopped flying higher, and she stopped right on level with him.

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "Would ye put both hands on yer broomstick, ye dunderhead?"

He gripped his broomstick softly. "You've never been high before, have you?"

Merida shook her head slowly, tuning out the cheers from the classmates below them. "I doubt ye have, either. Yer a Muggle-born."

"Yeah, but I climbed trees a lot back home. I'd get too lazy to climb down if I got too high and just jump down instead. Fifteen, twenty feet maybe?"

Merida blinked. "I was right. Yer a dunderhead."

"What does that even mean?"

"Just… if yer so good with heights, how are ye goin' to get us out o' here?"

"I'm a Muggle-born! I don't know how to work broomsticks! Didn't you say you got yours for your birthday?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to wait until Flyin' Class to use it. Besides, me folks haven't flown for years an' wanted me to have proper instruction!" Merida told herself to stop hyperventilating. This was the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to her.

"Alright. Let's just tip the handle of the broomstick forward a bit and think downward or something-" Merida screamed as Jack shot straight down a hundred feet or so into the ground with no magic to slow his fall. Slytherin House huddled below him and locked their arms, grabbing each others' wrists, elbows, forearms, et cetera. "Drop your broomstick!" they were calling up at him. Jack, with a great amount of trust, tossed the broomstick to the side, which cluttered to the ground. Merida had to give Slytherin House props on that: they were a very close-knit house. Literally. Their intertwined limbs made the perfect bed to cushion Jack's fall. He got up, laughing and cheering with the rest of them.

Merida knew her house, after getting the idea from Slytherin, would do the same for her if she fell, but she wasn't eager to do group bonding trust exercises. "Alright, Merida!" Madam Hooch called. "Looks like you're the best flyer in the class!" Gryffindor House cheered and Slytherin nervously joined in, following Jack's lead. He was smiling up at her, as if she would realize any second how wonderful the view was and waiting for her irrational, unexpected, grappling fear to melt away into nothingness.

To be accurate, this was the part where Merida took Jack's advice and controlled her descent steadily. Five feet away from the ground, she lost control, tipped forward, and rolled off her broomstick with a front flip, smiling as if that was supposed to happen. Her classmates congratulated her on and introduced her to Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Oliver Wood, who told her that once she was old enough, which would be her second year, she should try out for the House Team.

But this wasn't accurate. This was a nightmare. An all too frequent nightmare with too many alternate endings. In this version, she tipped her broomstick downward, and somehow, she shot backwards, going upward on the diagonal angle, higher and higher into the sky. Her broomstick disappeared underneath her and she continued shooting farther into a darkening sky until a Bludger nailed her in the back of the head. She fell unconscious, but of course, in her dream state, it was more like she lost all sight and hearing. In eternal darkness she propelled downward, picking up speed at an illogical rate. Faster. Faster.

The front of Merida's head hit the floor of her dormitory with a sickening clunk. She looked up to her right and saw she'd rolled out of bed. That was new. But, of course, the nightmare would be its worst the day before her first Quidditch Match. She looked up at the sky. An orange dawn blinded her so that when Merida looked away, little Snitches danced in her vision.

The time had come. She was a second-year. The peer-pressure, while encouraging and driven by good intentions, was so great that Merida couldn't back down from Quidditch tryouts or everyone would know heights terrified her. Looking around the room, Merida saw the other girls were still bound in a heavy sleep. The girl in the bed next to Merida had dropped a stuffed lion on the ground, and Merida smiled. She picked up the lion and tucked it under the girl's arm. She then headed to the bathroom she and the four other second-year Gryffindor girls shared and decided there was no way she was going to go back to sleep. Instead, Merida began getting ready for the day.

"I am a Gryffindor." She pulled the scarlet-and-gold uniform over her mass of curly red hair. "I am brave," she muttered, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. Her gaze pierced through the glass, and Merida was happy to see that, on the outside, she looked the role. She grabbed her Firebolt, and her blue eyes on dilated pupils resembled flames dancing on black coals, licking ferociously at her lashes. "I am not afraid o' heights."

She imagined her reflection falling over from laughter. Merida rubbed the handle of the Firebolt anxiously between her hands. She'd, of course, been flying a lot recently to get over her fears. Flying didn't put her in hysterics anymore, but it still made her extremely uncomfortable. Besides the peer-pressure, Merida's reasoning for joining the team was she knew that facing her fears in front of the school everyday would help her get over them. After all, she was a Gryffindor. Gryffindors are brave. Bravery means being afraid of nothing.

Merida left the bathroom and checked the wall clock. Half-past seven. It was a Saturday, so no one would be awake this early, but house elves were punctual. Breakfast had to be ready in the Great Hall.

She was surprised to see around ten other students down there, nibbling off of scones and sipping orange juice in zombie mode. Her eyes immediately shot over to Ravenclaw table to see if her best friend was up. Of course she was. Rapunzel was an early riser.

Merida didn't know how the other tables would react, but she didn't care, either. She sat at Ravenclaw table in the seat opposite Rapunzel and stole an apple. She bit into the fruit sloppily. "Mornin'."

Rapunzel jumped and set down her book, _Quidditch Through the Ages_. "Merida!" She beamed widely. "You excited for your game?"

"Ye bet!" Merida lied, successfully topped off with a light-hearted laugh. "Studyin' up on Quidditch now, are ye?"

"It's a fascinating sport!" Rapunzel said. "I would definitely play it, if I weren't so uncoordinated."

"Yer not uncoordinated."

"And my hair would get in my way, even in its braids."

"Me hair will get in me way, an' that's not stoppin' me!"

Rapunzel laughed. "Quiz me."

"On the sport?" Merida tossed her apple core down onto the table and rubbed her hands on the napkin, taking _Quidditch Through the Ages_ away from Rapunzel and shutting it beside her. "How many per team?"

"Seven. C'mon. That's easy."

"How many balls?"

"Four: the Quaffle, a red ball the size of a circular watermelon-" Merida snorted and Rapunzel shot her a look. "Then two Bludgers, both of which are basically black coconuts, and then a Golden Snitch with wings that fits in the palm of your hand."

"Ye broke the fruit tradition!"

"What?"

"Comparin' Quidditch balls to fruit in size!"

"Are coconuts fruit?"

"I don't know. Yer the Ravenclaw."

Rapunzel closed her eyes. "Right. Coconuts are fibrous one-seeded drupes, and a drupe is a fruit with a hard stony covering over the-"

"What types o' players are there, an' how many o' each? An' their jobs?"

"There's three Chasers on each team, who pass the Quaffle back and forth to each other in order to keep it from the other team's Chasers with a chief goal to score it through one of three large hoops on the opposing team's end. Each goal is 10 points." That was Merida's job: Chaser. There were so many teammates to cooperate with, so Merida knew if she fell, she'd have two others to help her up.

"Good. Next?"

"Each team has one Keeper who's decked out in a bunch of protective gear because he guards the goals from the Quaffle. If a Quaffle is thrown at his goals, he can punch it with his arms, hands, or knees; slap it away with his chest; or even head-butt it." Merida _obviously_ wanted this position, sitting in midair having a heavy red metal ball chucked at her constantly throughout the entire game. Thankfully, only the largest players on the team would play this position, so Merida didn't have to worry about being cornered into that position. Besides, the Captain, fifth-year Oliver Wood, played Keeper.

"An' next is…"

"Beaters. Two per team. They are in charge of hitting the Bludgers with their bats at the opposing team's Chasers to make them drop the Quaffle." Merida couldn't stand this role, because it meant keeping her hands off the broomstick at all times while flying at remarkable speeds to keep up with bewitched black balls and hit them with a bat. At least as a Chaser, Merida could keep the Quaffle tucked underneath one arm while holding safely onto the broom with another arm. As for risking being hit by Bludgers? Her big red hair made her an easy target for the Beaters. Merida pushed this idea away.

"Crickey, Rapunzel, ye know this stuff. Ye should be Quidditch commentator one day!"

"Maybe one day," Rapunzel said with a shrug. "But I haven't even finished!" Merida waved a hand in permission. "Each team has a Seeker, who has to keep an eye out for the tiny Golden Snitch. The game only ends when someone catches it. It's worth 150 points." Oliver Wood had wanted Merida to play this position. It required the lightest player, and Merida was pretty tiny. But the Seeker flew way too high and way too fast for Merida's liking. On the contrary, a Chaser could fly pretty low to the ground, and it would be considered a "great playing strategy" to get out of the tangle of the other five Chasers.

"Bloody brilliant!" Merida said. She reached forward and chugged a cup of orange juice, which she spit out in surprise upon finding an odd flavor… grapefruit juice. Rapunzel couldn't help but laugh.

"So nervous before the big game she's throwing up, huh?" Merida heard a teasing voice. She looked up and gave Jack a look that read bloody murder as he sat beside Rapunzel. As Rapunzel laughed all the harder from Jack's comment, Jack's face softened and he caught Merida's eye, mouthing, "Still?" Merida refused to make eye contact with him after that.

Jack turned the conversation to Rapunzel. "So, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. First Quidditch match of the year. You rooting for my team or hers?"

"Jack, you didn't even tryout for your Quidditch team!" Rapunzel said. "Who are _you _rooting for: your house or one of your best friends?"

"I'd tell you, but I like my head attached to my neck, and if my house overheard…" Jack chuckled and shook his head.

"Why didn't ye tryout for Quidditch? If ye like it so much?" Merida said, wringing her hands underneath the table.

"Well, there was only _one_ position I really wanted to play, but Slytherin House has it strictly reserved as a seventh-year-only position. Which I totally respect. Seniority, you know?" Merida raised her eyebrows in asking. "Seeker. It's the pride and glory of the house," Jack answered. "Pride and glory of any house, really, but I don't think other houses have a limit on who plays."

"It's Slytherin's loss," Merida shrugged. "The smallest an' usually youngest o' the team is always best fit for Seeker."

"Yeah, but if you're really talented, you can be three-hundred pounds and six-foot-four and fly faster and steer better than any spindly twelve-year-old on the team. And, no; Slytherin's Seeker is actually barely tipping the scale at three digits, by the looks of him. But he's really fast and really good. Just to warn you."

"We don't need it," Merida said in a sing-song voice. "Wood has got some bloody great plays. Yer house won't know what hit 'em."

Jack rolled his eyes at her and reached for the grapefruit juice. Rapunzel opened her mouth to warn him, but Merida shot her a look. Jack fought his gag reflex and slammed the goblet down as he forced a swallow. "What is that?"

"Grapefruit juice," Rapunzel said. "It's a Ravenclaw favorite at breakfast."

Jack just stared at her for a couple of seconds, his dark, thick brows posed in a way that communicated a million messages. His eyebrow game was strong, Merida would give him that. Rapunzel, without breaking eye contact, picked up the nearest goblet of grapefruit juice and chugged it without a breath. Jack's amber eyes grew bigger and bigger. Merida snorted.

Hiccup, who seemed to come out of no where, sat down next to Merida. "Hufflepuff is rooting for Gryffindor! Thought you ought to know."

Merida beamed at Jack, rubbing it in his face. Jack shrugged, as if he expected this. "You know," Jack started, looking up and down Ravenclaw table, "we're getting a lot of weird looks from your house, Rapunzel. I don't think they like non-Ravenclaws dining at the table of the Holy Raven or something."

"Our symbol is the eagle, Jack, not the raven. Ravenclaw was Rowena's last name, that's all!"

"Still, if I was her, I would've made it a raven for consistency's sake. It's only logical…" Jack muttered.

"Yeah, they are looking at us weird, huh?" Hiccup said, receiving a stink eye from a fifth year.

"Well, I want to eat with Merida before her big game. Sue me." Rapunzel bit into a pear.

"Then eat with me," Merida said. "All o' ye. How 'bout we each grab some food from our tables an' all meet up outside the Great Hall an' eat breakfast together out there? It can be a tradition we do before Quidditch games." Everyone seemed to love this idea.

Jack stood up. "I'll grab some orange juice from Slytherin table." He eyed Rapunzel pointedly.

"Why bother? There's some right here," Hiccup said, reaching out for a cup of grapefruit juice. Rapunzel tried to stop him, but Jack slung one arm around her waist and pulled her close so he could clamp a hand over her mouth. Jack held his breath as he watched Hiccup, and Merida plugged her nose to keep from laughing. Hiccup made a priceless face which made the other three break into hysterical laughter, and he spat the juice back out into the goblet, which he slammed onto the table. "What is that?"

"Grapefruit juice!" Rapunzel explained, now free from Jack's grip. "I tried to warn you, but Jack-"

"I didn't want to deprive my friend from the Ravenclaw experience, Hiccup!" Jack shot a blinding white smile across the table, and Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"This is to get back at me for when I made sailor knots out of all your shoelaces, huh?" Hiccup said.

"Nah, man, those took me a good hour or so to untangle!" Jack smiled wickedly. "I've got a better retaliation for that; you just wait."

"Excuse me," a cold voice interrupted the four. Merida blushed. It was their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Professor Pitch. He could be a little creepy sometimes, and very strict in class. Merida tried hard to be respectful, but nothing ever seemed to please him. "Only Ravenclaws are allowed to dine at Ravenclaw Table."

"We apologize, sir," Hiccup said, standing up. Merida got up as well and tried a smile at the professor, offering a sincere apology. He eyed her Quidditch uniform and noted her as competition against his house. Great. There went her grade.

Even Rapunzel had stood up out of respect from her own table, but Jack, who'd already been standing, slumped back down in his seat. "I didn't know that was a rule."

"Jack." Rapunzel gave him a pointed look.

"Ignorance doesn't deny fact," Pitch said with a sigh. He picked up a goblet from the table that Merida realized, only too late, was the goblet of grapefruit juice Hiccup had spat back into. Pitch took a swig without a second thought. Hiccup paled and ran away, and Jack split into a wide grin.

"Well, sir, I'll go on to my own table." Jack stood up and swaggered away, leaving a scandalized Rapunzel and a humored Merida.

"Your first game, isn't it?" Pitch said, taking another sip. Any nerves Merida had about the match were momentarily dispelled by the comical scene as she nodded. "Well, Slytherin has been practicing quite frequently and their progress is impeccable. Don't take any loss personally. They are a magnificent team this year."

If Pitch were a friend, Merida would laugh and respond, "O' course! I hope they'll be good competition an' let us have fun for once. We like victories, but we like challenges better!" But since Pitch was a professor, Merida just smiled. "That's great! I'll warn me teammates for ye. We'll make sure to try our hardest this game for yer house's team."

Pitch turned and walked away, and Merida's stomach plummeted again. Heights. "I'll meet you outside the Great Hall?" Rapunzel asked, gathering a selection of fruits from Ravenclaw Table.

"See ye there."

* * *

Merida took a deep breath and shot up into the air with her teammates. She kept her eyes off the ground and off the spectators, locking her gaze on the goalposts. She could do this. She could do this. She _would_ do this.

She eyed Slytherin Team. They had a history for not only being racist against Muggle-borns, but also sexist. Naturally, not a single girl was on the team. According to Oliver Wood, it had been three years since a girl played on the team. The players, for the most part, were fairly large. The smallest was the Seeker that Jack had mentioned, but the other boys all looked at least fifteen. Merida recognized Jack's friend, third-year Flynn Rider, playing Beater, but even then, Flynn had started school two years late after being on the run for so long, so he was technically fifteen.

She tried not to think about her red cape from her uniform swishing behind her in the harsh winds as the Quaffle was thrown up into the air by the referee to start the game. She remembered Wood's play only at the last second. Diving downward and biting her tongue to keep from screaming, she watched a sixth-year Chaser on her team snatch the Quaffle and fake a far toss towards the goals but releasing it later only when her arm continued swinging downward. Merida caught it with one hand, which Oliver Wood saw as esteemed hand-eye coordination but was really her refusal to let go of the broomstick with both hands. She raced forward quickly, pressing her body low to the broomstick to pick up a bit of speed.

This was the tricky part of the play. Technically, it wouldn't be so hard if Merida wasn't so chicken, so she turned off her brain and operated like a machine. She shot upward at a sharp angle and purposefully flung the Quaffle at the Slytherin Keeper's shoulder, where he easily deflected it. One of the Chasers on her team easily took the rebound into the left goalpost.

Merida's fellow Chasers flew towards her on each side for a high-five. Merida, still operating like a machine from the play, took each hand of the broomstick as they brushed past her. Realizing too late she was sitting in midair, she almost fell backwards from the momentum of the high-fives until one of the Chasers patted her on the back in congratulations and it came out like more of a smack, allowing Merida to regain her balance forward. With Slytherin in possession of the Quaffle, Merida prepared to play defense on the smallest player. Of course, he still had a head or two on her in height. Swell.

For the rest of the game, Merida was faced with a decision: play the game up close and personal with the other players and keep getting rammed in the side and risk falling of her broomstick _or_ be that super lithe player that flew quickly at sharp terrifying angles in order to avoid the large Slytherin Chasers. Merida found herself operating under the latter and was astounded to find it worked pretty well.

Despite the fact she pulled the trick too often, it was unanticipated each time and played a great role in scoring the majority of Gryffindor's points. It was her signature move in practice with Gryffindor Team: she would steal the Quaffle and fly low, close to the ground on the Quidditch Pitch, where heavier players couldn't fight the gravitational pull and would fall to the ground if they tried to pursue her, as she bulleted across the field and tossed the Quaffle high in the air where another one of her teammates would usually score.

A low-pitched male voice performed the commentary for this match, and the voice had a soothing resonance that made Merida listen to the tones rather than the words if she didn't put in an effort to pay attention. "…putting Gryffindor at 210, with Slytherin at 250." The lead wasn't that much, so Merida wasn't worried.

Merida squinted up into the afternoon sun as the fall winds angled the heat off the back of her neck. Sure enough, high above the Quidditch Pitch, the two Seekers kept their eyes peeled for a Golden Snitch. Way high above the Quidditch Pitch. Oliver Wood had really wanted Merida to play that position. It was adorable that he even entertained such a thought.

Spotting the Slytherin player she was supposed to be guarding, Merida flew up and intercepted a pass, tucking the Quaffle underneath an arm and zipping across the Quidditch Pitch. She didn't want to risk her balance by faking a toss into one goal, and because the Slytherin Keeper expected a fake through, he didn't put enough effort into deflecting the toss. Merida scored into the center hoop easily. The Quaffle skimmed past the rim of the hoop which caused the goal post to vibrate like metallic heat waves. Merida couldn't help herself and watched the post shudder all the way down to the ground, where the Golden Snitch was doing figure-eights inches off the grass around all three Slytherin goal posts.

"…240 and 300, Slytherin in the lead," the commentator was saying. Merida snapped back to attention, careful not to give away the location of the Snitch to the other Slytherins. But how was her own Seeker going to know?

The first chance she got, which wasn't for another few minutes, Merida discreetly grabbed a Beater from her own team and told him to relay the message as soon as he got the chance. He flew off as if they hadn't spoken a word to one another in order to keep from arousing suspicions.

The Beater flew up to the Gryffindor Seeker to divert the path of a Bludger and whispered the words quickly. The Seeker dove down to the ground with the Slytherin Seeker at his heels. Suddenly, the commentary and attention of the audience was off the Chasers and on the Seekers, and with it, the attention of the Beaters and Bludgers. Thank goodness Merida didn't have to worry about being pummeled by those bewitched coconuts.

She had no choice but to continue playing the game with the Quaffle, but it didn't matter. The points of the teams were so close that the game was in the hands of the Seekers, literally. Once that Golden Snitch entered one of their palms, the game would be all over.

Stealing a glance, Merida saw that below her, the Golden Snitch darted by as the Seekers, Gryffindor in the lead, extended their arms to make the winning catch. She directed her attention back to her teammates as she stole the Quaffle from one of the larger more uncoordinated Slytherin Chasers and passed it to her own teammate above her. The sunlight glinted off the Quaffle, but not as blindingly as it did on one of the Bludgers. Merida watched as Flynn Rider, a Slytherin Beater, swung his bat, aiming the blow at her team's Seeker.

Without thinking, Merida sped across the Quidditch Pitch in order to push her teammate out of harm's way. Merida outstretched an arm, but she couldn't reach the Seeker in time. However, she did intercept the Bludger's blow. It nailed her inside her left forearm, and with a yelp, Merida fell off the broomstick, only one thought coursing through her mind: nope.

Nope. Nope. Nope. She was not falling. That was not going to happen. No, she would hang by one hand a couple hundred feet off the ground, but she would not fall. No sir. Merida's hand was clammy with sweat, but she managed to hold onto the broomstick with her good arm as she dangled in midair.

The pain. The fear. The adrenaline. It all took over. Merida faintly remembered a fellow Chaser helping her up and the buzz of the commentary box. She remembered everybody tripling before her very eyes and the cottony texture that seemed to materialize in her mouth. She remembered a static-like sound that could have been applause or jeering. Then, she remembered blackness.

* * *

The dream again. The last thing she needed.

"Alright, Merida!" Madam Hooch called. "Looks like you're the best flyer in the class!" Gryffindor House cheered and Slytherin nervously joined in, following Jack's lead. He was smiling up at her, as if she would realize any second how wonderful the view was and waiting for her irrational, unexpected, grappling fear to melt away into nothingness. Merida wasn't a lucid dreamer, but she'd had this nightmare enough times to be aware she was dreaming, aware she was only reliving a memory. Well, except this is the part her subconscious takes over and makes some new terrifying alternate ending.

Suddenly, all the first-years below her were carrying Quidditch bats, and Bludgers materialized out of no where. Everyone began swinging at the Bludgers, which rocketed in Merida's direction. The first few just whipped by her, but the wind caused her to lose balance and she slipped off the broom, hanging off the handle in midair by her right hand. The next couple of Bludgers soared with unwavering accuracy towards her left arm, the arm injured in the Quidditch game. As soon as they hit her arm, they exploded in beautiful bursts of golden light. As if that wasn't weird enough, when the Bludgers stopped coming, some golden flower-sun hybrid tattooed itself on the no longer injured bone.

Merida's eyes shot open, and she sat up in the Hogwarts Infirmary in a panic. "Whoa!" a voice said. The owner of the voice gently pushed Merida's shoulders to lay her back down in the bed. "You're ok; you're ok. It was just a fracture. But I healed it. Well, of course, I mean, I didn't heal it; I used the medication and stuff and you know that healed it but that's all-"

"Rapunzel?" Merida croaked. She didn't know why it came out as a question. She knew that voice. Thank goodness Rapunzel volunteered in the infirmary at school. Merida wanted nothing more than to be in the comfort and care of her best friend.

"Oh! And you won the Quidditch Game. Oliver Wood- your captain; that's his name, right?- wouldn't shut up about it when he carried you down here. If you hadn't taken the Bludger's blow, there's no way your Seeker would've caught the Snitch."

"Has anyone else seen me like this?"

"Merida. Honestly. You just did this huge selfless brave act in front of the entire school. It is not humiliating to be seen like this. Your team accompanied Oliver when he carried you down here, of course, but he insisted everyone else gave you some breathing room. As soon as he laid you down on the bed, he ushered everybody out to let you recover. He self-appointed himself your personal bodyguard or something."

"Well, I wouldn't have gotten in this mess if he hadn't spent me entire first year at Hogwarts tryin' to pressure me into tryin' out for the Quidditch Team. Well, I played a match; hope he's happy."

"Wait; you're not quitting after this, are you?" Rapunzel grabbed Merida's arm tightly. The injured arm. Funny, it didn't hurt bad at all. Of course a Ravenclaw would be a good healer.

Merida was surprised to find herself shaking her head. Despite the horrors of heights, Merida did enjoy Quidditch. The nerves in part drove her pleasure. It was relatively masochistic. Besides, she made a commitment to the team.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Hiccup came sprinting towards Merida with Jack walking slowly behind him. "Merida! Merida, Holy Odin, are you ok? Your arm got hit by a Bludger!" Hiccup didn't stop running in time and stumbled against the footboard of the bed. He didn't seem fazed by it, though.

"Yeah, she knows. She was there," Jack called across the room. His pace kept its rate. "So, anyways, I was talking with Flynn after the game, expecting he'd be all upset about what he'd done and super apologetic. Nah. He's super ticked that you took the Bludger and cost him the game. Like, really mad. He's practically throwing a fit right now. It's kind of hilarious."

That kind of report made Merida feel better than any apology she could've ever received. She did that short laugh that was half-inhaling, half-snorting, while Rapunzel scoffed, "I'm sure Flynn's very sorry. He's probably just embarrassed about it all! Guys react weird when they're embarrassed. The one enigma a Ravenclaw could never fathom."

Hiccup walked around the side of the bed and kneeled down of the floor to get on eye-level with Merida. "Do you need any help sitting up?" She didn't need help, but she went ahead and humored him. "I know you're injured and it probably really hurt when you did it, but honestly, it was amazing how you took that Bludger for your team! It was just so selfless and-"

"Brave," Jack interrupted, his hands dug in his pockets. "Incredibly brave, Merida. You're obviously fearless."

"Well," Merida said, blushing, "that's sweet o' ye to say so. I'm a Gryffindor, after all. We're brave, an' that means bein' afraid o' nothin'."

Jack just shrugged. "That being said, there's nothing wrong with being afraid of stuff…" Merida shot him a discrete look and he knew to shut his mouth.

Rapunzel picked up where he left off. "After all, being afraid of nothing is simply fearlessness. And maybe a little brash and foolish. No, bravery isn't just not being afraid. In fact, I think the epitome of bravery is being absolutely horrified of something but not letting it hinder you from doing the right thing."

"And who isn't afraid of a Bludger?" Hiccup's eyes where huge as he stared at the wall in front of him, his gaze locked in terror. "Merida, don't do that again. I nearly died knowing you hurt yourself like that. It was brave and inspiring and totally awesome but I swear before Thor if you come that close to falling again I will literally die."

"Misuse o' literality," Merida said with a smirk. "But ye know what? I'm not afraid o' any Bludger. I'm not afraid o' anythin' 'bout Quidditch." She felt easy breathing for the first time in a while. It was true. Heights were still a little spooky and always would be, but Merida was no longer bound by the irrational fear. It felt great. Of course, having to face that fear didn't feel too great, but the aftermath was beyond worth it.

Hiccup smiled at her. "Of course you aren't. You're the bravest friend I've ever had." He clapped her shoulder and looked towards Rapunzel. "How healed is she?"

"She's perfectly fine now. Why?"

"Then let's not confine her to this hospital bed. I heard there's a huge party in Gryffindor Tower waiting for you."

"Let's go!" Merida said jumping out of bed. "I'm sure if the party's for me, me house won't mind if I bring some o' me own friends from other houses."

"Um… they won't mind Rapunzel and Hiccup," Jack said slowly. "They most likely would not want a Slytherin in there."

Besides the fact that Slytherin opposed them this particular match, the house rivalry had always been strong between those two houses. But Merida wasn't going to let that bother her. And she would make sure it didn't bother any of the other kids in her house, either. "What's the matter, Jack? Ye afraid o' me house?" She gave him a playful sneer. "If they see yer with me, they won't give ye any trouble. I want to party with me three best friends. C'mon!"


	3. Good Intentions Lead to Detention

Jack's POV: Fifth Year

"Jack! Jack!" Jack sighed and closed his Herbology textbook, throwing it to the foot of his bed as he leaned against the headboard. He had a huge assessment tomorrow he needed to be studying for. Then again, all he was doing was staring at the pages while zoning out.

"What's up?" Jack called back to the voice he recognized as Flynn's. The door to his dormitory flew open, and Flynn came running in, out of breath.

"Down by the kitchen," Flynn panted. "Hufflepuff. First-year. Muggle-born."

Jack was suddenly alert as he flew out of Slytherin Dungeon, which wasn't far from the kitchen and Hufflepuff Basement. "You can't keep intervening, you know," Flynn said, running after him. "The others will figure out that the reason you're so supportive of Muggle-borns is because you are one."

"Well, then why did you tell me there was another kid being harassed for his heritage? Why didn't you defend him yourself?"

"Because I don't know how! You know, Jack, I always thought Muggle-borns were inferior for the longest time until you told me you were one and-."

"I never told you! You were practicing your Legilimency on me and pulled it out of me."

"Details, details. Anyway, it's hard, after being raised to believe certain biased concepts, to completely abandon that way of thinking, even if your old thinking was completely wrong. It's really hard. And I understand now, but I'm still learning. And I find it hard to defend a new mentality while attacking the old one." Flynn showed Jack a tunnel that was a shortcut through the castle to get to the kitchen hallway.

Jack didn't know how to respond and had a feeling he shouldn't pursue it anymore. "Well, the most important thing isn't to help myself, but to help the poor little boy being bullied for his blood."

"Um, about that-" Flynn didn't have a chance to finish. The boys exited the tunnel to see a bunch of older Slytherin boys, about five of them, laughing at a young Hufflepuff who had to be the first-year Muggle-born. And the Hufflepuff wasn't a little boy, but a frail skinny little girl. She wasn't just slender. She was that kind of underweight skinny that made her bones stand out against her tight skin, complete with knobby knees and a thin frame for shoulders that failed at keeping the Hogwarts uniform school robe on her body.

"Hey, what's going on?" Jack called to the boys. When they caught sight of him, they rolled their eyes and groaned. Jack had gotten a reputation for his good heart.

"Nothing now, I guess," one mumbled.

"No, I'm serious; what's going on?" Jack gave up with the boys after their silence and looked to the little girl for an answer. "Can you tell me, sweetie?"

The girl blinked in confusion. "What's a Mudblood?" Jack pressed his lips together while curses rang in his head. Why on earth would these older Slytherins introduce such vulgar slang to a little girl? Flynn gently bent down and took the little girl's arm, introducing himself and offering to walk her back to Hufflepuff Basement. Flynn had a way with kids, and that was an understatement. But as Jack met Flynn's eyes, Jack knew that the main reason Flynn was taking the girl away was because Flynn knew Jack was about to blow up.

"What the hell, guys?" Jack said under his breath in case the little girl was in earshot. "She's eleven. The last thing she needs is a bunch of huge upperclassmen harassing her parentage _and_ introducing swear words to her!"

One of the larger guys stepped forward, waving a hand. "Jack, I understand you're all Muggle-born activist. That isn't anything new. But you swear like a drunk sailor playing poker with pirates in the middle of a sea storm. You really have a problem with our vocabulary?"

"She's eleven!"

"When you were eleven, it never bothered you. We're in the same year, Jack. I remember when we started school together, you scandalized even me with your little potty mouth on day one." Jack couldn't help but crack a smile. He searched the bully's blue-gray eyes and finally placed a name, or rather, a nickname, after being supplied with that memory: the Rock. "Don't tell me you're sexist enough to believe girls can't cuss?"

The smile washed off Jack's face. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Were you being prejudiced because she's only a weak Hufflepuff? Surely they're not as hardcore as the swearing Slytherins?"

"You know that's not what I meant!" Jack said again, stepping closer to the Rock.

"You act like you're so high and mighty, all defensive against little Mudbloods, so much better than everybody else, but when anyone else tries to assert any dominance, you can't stand for it."

"I don't try… I don't think… I'm not… and you know that!"

"Very literate," the Rock grumbled, his voice like gravel scraping against a chalkboard. "Look, we're sick and tired of you butting in our business, and we'd appreciate it if you'd stay out" -with that word, the Rock shoved Jack's chest harshly so Jack was forced to stumble back a few steps- "of our way!"

Jack clenched his fists. Slytherin House was cunning. It was one of its most esteemed attributes. Jack was always quick to reply with witty comebacks, but so were the rest of his house mates. And when faced with other smooth speakers, Jack felt as if his tongue lost its power. "I don't think I'm any better than you," Jack said slowly and truthfully. "I just think you're wrong. You are so wrong to harass other students for something they can't help! Something that doesn't even matter! You are just completely and utterly wrong!" Jack was screaming at this point. "Why does being Muggle-born bother you so much? Are you afraid they're any better than you? Any stronger than you? Do you think they're going to take something away from you?"

Suddenly, the Rock drew a fist back and drove it harshly up into Jack's gut. Jack stumbled backwards, and his head smacked against the brick wall behind him. Great. Physical strength. With his spindly appendages, Jack knew he was screwed. But he couldn't just run away in terror. And as the Rock shoved Jack to the ground, Jack decided he wasn't just going to sit there and take it.

Pain flared in his ribcage as he rolled to the side, not quite avoiding a kick in time. As soon as he made his rotation, Jack got on a knee to support himself back into a standing position to face the Rock. Some of the Rock's friends started forward to beat up Jack as well, but the Rock outstretched both of his arms. "I don't need any help taking this little weakling down." As the Rock raced towards Jack, Jack balled a fist and feigned a throw at the Rock's gut and sent his fist upwards into the Rock's jaw. It didn't hinder the Rock, but it hurt and angered him. The Rock had a mean left hook, and Jack found himself back on the ground, his hands over his right eye. The Rock grabbed the front of his shirt and turned him over, and Jack slammed the heel of his hand harshly into the Rock's nose.

Suddenly, all of the Rock's friends got started running away, which fazed the Rock. With his attention misdirected, Jack shoved the Rock, who'd been sitting on top of him, to the floor beside him as he tried to stand up and back away. But Jack's legs were wobbly, and he only managed to scoot backwards on his butt. His ears were ringing. But when he finally started hearing the woman's voice, Jack knew the reason the Rock's friends had run off: teacher alert.

"What do you two boys _think_ you are _doing_? This is an utter disgrace to your house! There is nothing worse than inner house mutiny! I am absolutely outraged!" Spots danced in Jack's vision as he was harshly dragged to his feet. He thrust a hand against the wall to steady himself as the woman's voice babbled on, his focus coming in and out at certain points of the lecture. "…before dinner Saturday. Meet me in my greenhouse."

"Yes, Professor Sprout," the Rock grumbled, rubbing a sore nose that unfortunately wasn't bleeding. Jack felt like a two-year-old kicking his parents in demands for sweets at a candy shop. He couldn't do any real damage and just left the situation looking absolutely idiotic. He wasn't about to ask the Rock, who was storming away angrily, but he was pretty sure they'd been given detention. Together. And it was only logical that a fair amount of house points were taken. The professors never took him seriously. They always expected Jack to be a rowdy, unruly American boy who just looked for ways to make the school miserable. They always seemed to find him proving them right. Sometimes, Jack wondered why Dumbledore specifically invited him to attend this school all the way in Scotland when the Salem Witch Institute in Massachusetts would've been so much more practical. But he couldn't question it. After all, here at Hogwarts, he'd met Merida, Hiccup, Rapunzel, and Flynn. That made it all worth it. Jack could put up with a detention from Sprout.

Wait. That was Professor Sprout. The teacher who would give him the huge Herbology assessment tomorrow. Whelp. He was screwed.

* * *

"You're early, Mister Frost," Sprout said as she polished a pot.

"Sorry. I'll… wait outside, then." Jack didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but his voice rose at the end, so he couldn't help but look stupid.

"Well, if you're here already, might as well make yourself useful and help me finishing polishing these pots." At first, Jack thought this was what he was to be doing for detention for a couple hours, seeing as Sprout was cleaning the pots by hand, the Muggle way. But there were only a couple left, so Jack knew that wasn't what he was going to do. He didn't question the cleaning method and reached for a pot to begin polishing.

"In case you're wondering," Sprout started, "I graded your assessment already. You only missed two."

Jack nearly dropped the pot. How on earth did he only miss two? He actually studied for this test because of the detention he'd recently gotten, making it the first Herbology test he really put genuine effort into, but he still didn't understand a thing he studied. Jack didn't understand how that always happened. Jack didn't like it, either. He didn't want his ranking of a wizard to be based on how well he took a test. But Jack had no other option but to nod and engage in student-teacher small-talk, asking stupid questions like how long the test took to grade and if there was a curve and what the class average was and all that nonsense he didn't even fully understand.

When the Rock entered the greenhouse, Jack was polishing the last pot, so Sprout directed the Rock to sit at a bench by the door. Once Jack was done, Sprout had him sit in the same place. Jack sat on the bench on the opposite side of the door, as far away from the Rock as possible without looking too incredibly obvious to be avoiding him because of a grudge.

"Do either of you boys know what Zaluzianskya capensis is?"

"I'm guessing it's a plant-" Jack started.

"That was a rhetorical question," Sprout said, and the Rock snorted. "Zaluzianskya capensis is a Muggle plant known for its tendency to bloom only at night. Due to this, it releases a strong, yet beautiful, scent that can be easily identified. You may call it Night Phlox." Jack didn't know why she didn't just skip the Latin binomial nomenclature and simply call it Night Phlox, but he wasn't about to question her. "It isn't native to Britain, but of course, it is very useful in certain potions and medicines, so I import them. They don't grow well in a greenhouse; no, the must grow outside. So in order to avoid interference from other students who might be running around outside, I grow these flowers in the safety of the Forbidden Forest. I need you boys to go out at nightfall and harvest these flowers. Remember to dig up the dirt around them as not to damage the roots." Sprout continued babbling on the best way to harvest plants while handing each boy a rather large woven basket to gather all the plants. "Don't be concerned with curfew; I have permission to hold students over for detention. So don't come back until both of those baskets are filled. Except I'm not going to be here that late at night… you can drop the baskets off in my office." Sprout gave instructions to which of the many other greenhouses she kept as her office and how to get there.

Jack was scared to talk after Sprout had reprimanded him for answering her rhetorical question, but luckily, the Rock was thinking the same thing and voiced the question. "Professor Sprout, how are we supposed to find the Night Phlox? The Forbidden Forest is rather big."

"I told you. It releases a scent that is unique and thus easy to identify."

"But what is that scent?" the Rock asked. "Do you have another plant we can look at for reference or-?"

"No. I expect you'll know. It's getting dark. You two boys might want to walk on over." And Sprout began tending other plants as if the two boys weren't there. Right before the door shut behind them, she called out: "Oh! Right! Detention policy says that if you are to complete such tasks for professors as detention you aren't allowed to be assisted by use of magic. I'll need your wands." Jack and the Rock looked from the professor to each other to the professor again and handed over their wands before heading out. They walked through the grass in silence.

"I'm still mad at you," the Rock grumbled. "But temporary truce so we can get this over with?"

Jack wanted to scream, "What did I do?" But he was smarter than that. Instead, he just sighed and nodded. "After all, that's Sprout's goal with us working together, isn't it?"

"Well, the bwitch got her wish." "Bwitch" was a derogatory slang for witches that Slytherin House had invented that basically mashed the words "witch" and "bitch" together. And then for the wizards, there was always the hybrid of "bastard" and "wizard", which was "bazard". Jack found himself hoping the Rock hadn't introduced these to the little Hufflepuff girl. Nah. They were a Slytherin secret, something the Slytherins kept for themselves.

"Bwitch and wish? Please tell me the rhyming was an accident," Jack said.

"Uh, yeah, it was. My bad."

"Don't worry about it." Jack bit the inside of his lip. "Don't get me wrong; this detention is really tedious and I absolutely hate it, but harvesting flowers?"

"Maybe it's something she needs to do and was too lazy to do it. She was probably overjoyed to give some students detention to do it for her. But I guess I see what you're getting at."

"And you think…"

"I think you could be right. She's got something up her sleeves with the flowers. And taking our wands away like that-"

"Nah. Don't worry; that is protocol for detentions in Hogwarts." Jack felt a weird mixture of pride and shame in knowing so much about detentions at the school. But, hey, two thirds of them had always been with Pitch for something stupid like breathing just because the professor hated Jack for some reason. Probably because he was that annoying American transfer.

"Well, then. You ready to do some team-building, group-bonding trust exercises that somehow equals harvesting flowers?"

Jack realized how close they were to the Forbidden Forest. Slytherin House went in here quite a lot for the sole reason they weren't allowed. So Jack knew he and the Rock could navigate pretty well. "Let's go."

* * *

They barely filled a fourth of their baskets at this point and there was no light except for the stars and a half moon. "Why does Sprout have to have all these plants scattered senselessly across the forest?" Jack grumbled, dirt embedded thickly in his nail beds from all the uprooting.

"That way if some scary Forbidden Forest monster comes along, it can't ruin all her precious flowers," the Rock grumbled, finding another flower. He dug it up carefully and placed it in his basket. "Or maybe it's the smell. The first few smelled good, but there's too many of them now. The smell is almost intoxicating."

"It smells really… thick," Jack decided, plugging his nose for a second. He remembered that the longer he avoided the smell, the heavier it would seem when he smelled it again. He gave up on plugging his nose and prowled with the Rock through the forest.

They had decided earlier that splitting up would help them finish much quicker, but Sprout must've placed some hex on them because they couldn't be more than fifty feet apart without some invisible rope pulling them together. So the flowers were more than just busy work. Sprout had something up her sleeve that was, in the Rock's words, some "trust exercise" or something.

The Rock coughed as he bent over to pick up some more flowers and fell onto his knees. "Hey!" Jack called, tucking his basket under his arm as he ran over. "You ok?"

"It's really strong," the Rock wheezed, gripping Jack's arm tightly as he tried to stand up. His eyes seemed to fog over like the milky petals of flowers.

"Ok, this is bad," Jack said. "I need you to stand up. Slowly. But you need to stand up now." The Rock managed to clamber to his feet. "We need to get you away from the flowers." He took both their baskets and placed them on the ground.

"What's going on?" the Rock gasped, clutching a hand over his windpipe.

"Climb the tree. Get high. Away from the flowers and into the air." Jack dragged him to the nearest tree that looked fairly easy to climb and gave him a boost. The higher the Rock got, the better he seemed to feel. "Those flowers… are we gathering the right ones?"

"Sprout made a point about the smell. I'm pretty sure. What'd she call them? I know they're Night Phlox, but the Latin name…"

"Zaluzianskya capensis. She said they're a Muggle plant, but I think she's wrong."

"The Herbology professor wouldn't be wrong," Jack said. "The flowers must be Muggle with powers triggered by something else… magical air or something… did Sprout say anything about the flowers besides the smell?"

"They bloom under the moon. That might trigger something astronomically."

"Like any moon or a specific night of the moon's rotation? Even then, Muggle gardeners would be faced with the same problem. And that plant would thus be a danger to Muggles and not a Muggle crop. Did you notice anything special about the dirt we dug up around the roots?"

"No," the Rock said. "I'm not the most Herbology-minded, but I know the difference between Muggle dirt and magical fertilizer."

"You're right. What could it be?"

"The whole blooming under the full moon could be a big deal. I'm still not ready to reject that theory. And why aren't you dying from the stench?"

"It smells bad, I know that much, but it's not suffocating me. Zaluzianskya capensis, right?" The Rock corrected his pronunciation and Jack repeated the correct term. "There's a reason she told us its technical name along with Night Phlox, right?"

"Great. That reason is…"

"Do you know Latin?" It sounded like a stupid question, but the majority of spells were Latin incantations, and many extensive pureblood lines knew a fair amount of the Latin tongue as knowledge was passed on through generations. Jack guessed by the Rock's racism he must be from a pureblood family. And if the Latin name of the plant alluded to anything, the Rock would have a better chance to figure it out than Jack would."

"Not much, but I know there aren't any z's in Latin."

What was the letter closest to z? "Replace it with s or something!"

"Salusianskya… salus means health or safety, ianus is door, and scio is the verb for to know… and capensis isn't a Latin word, either, but it's close to the words for capture/captive and head."

"Know the door of health in the head? Know health through the door of captivity? Don't look at me like that; I know I look stupid."

"No, you have to be onto something." The Rock's eyes were fogging over again and he gripped the branches tightly. Why wasn't Jack passing out from the stench?

"Know the doorway to health is sealed, making you a captive to sickness or something?" Jack tried once more. "The smell does something… it messes with your head."

"And not yours. What's up with that?"

Jack looked up at the moon and pieced it together. It was a far-fetched guess, and Jack would humiliate himself even if his guess was correct. "The moonlight cast on the flowers enchants them. Since it's a Muggle plant, there must be something about Muggle heritage that makes them immune to it while wizards are left… poisoned, for lack of a better term."

"Great. Send two Slytherin purebloods into the woods to harvest such a deadly plant. But why are you immune to it?" Jack watched the Rock's eyes grow big. "You're a Mudblood."

Jack bit his lip. "The politically correct term is Muggle-born. But it must be what keeps me from getting poisoned by the plant."

"Am I really getting poisoned?"

"I don't know what's happening," Jack said honestly. "But we need to get you out of here." A wind blew the scent over through the branches of the trees, and the Rock began losing his hold on the branches. Jack reached forward and grabbed the Rock's school robes. "I thought we established when we got in the fist fight that I am _way_ weaker than you. There's no way I can carry you back to the school. You've got to hold yourself together."

Sure enough, the Rock cracked a delirious smile at the humor and murmured some gibberish. Jack tried to figure out someway he could at least damper the effects of the plant so the Rock could stumble out of the forest conscious. Jack concentrated. Zaluzianskya capensis. The name had to be hiding something else.

Ianus and salus… the door to safety rather than health, maybe? Scio… know the way to safety… capensis. Head. Memories. Jack was desperate and starting making connections he was sure didn't exist. "You can resist the effects of the flower. You have to think," Jack begged. About what? Safety? No, you think to lead yourself to safety… head… memories… grudges that hold you captive to hate. "Why do you hate Mudbloods?" Jack spat. Of course. A Muggle plant would retaliate strongly against wizards who believe in oppression of Muggles and Muggle-born magic folk. Jack knew it was farfetched. And maybe he was just hoping for himself that he could get one racist wizard to turn his ways. But he needed to try anything to help the Rock fight the Night Phlox.

The Rock blinked up at Jack, coughing harshly. "Why I don't like Mudbloods?"

"I think I'm onto something to make you better," Jack said slowly. "Talk it out. Why you hate Mudbloods. Don't tell me. Tell yourself."

"The last person I want to tell is another Mudblood."

Jack tried to prompt the Rock and tried to read his body language. The way he tensed. The way he looked at Jack with a sense of betrayal and mistrust. "It's not racism. Not the way I thought, anyway. It's personal, isn't it?"

The Rock breathed heavily. "My parents are both purebloods from extensive lines." He started out speaking slowly, but the words started gushing out of him with emotion. "They both work in the Ministry. My father works with the law and court, dealing with crimes, but my mom works for the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, which protects magic identity from Muggles. She works really close with this one Mudblood." Jack could almost see the words turning sour in the Rock's mouth, and his stomach plummeted. He knew where this was going. "The prick decided pleasure came before business, and my parents split up after that. I last saw her when I was nine. She wanted to see me again, but she insists on bringing the filthy Mudblood with her because I need to meet my step daddy. She used to write me a lot, and before I left for Hogwats, her last letter was this huge ultimatum: I accept him or reject her. I never had a problem with Mudbloods before that, but now… I will never be able to forgive him."

Jack's stomach churned with anger. Not at the Rock, but his mother. Jack's suspicion was the only way to reverse the poisonous effects of the flowers was the whole knowing the door to safety was overcoming grudges that are the prison of your mind or whatever that Latin meant. How on earth was the Rock supposed to get over that betrayal in a few minutes before the stench overpowered him and he passed out? Jack could tell by the way the Rock's neck rolled they were running out of time. But the Rock wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "It's not the… 'Mudblood' you hate."

"I hate him, Jack. I hate him; I hate him; I hate him."

"You don't hate anyone, but you are upset with someone." First stage of grief: denial. The Rock wasn't going to want to hear this. "You're mad at your mom."

"I don't hate my mother!"

"I never said that!" Jack rushed, keeping the Rock from thrashing too wildly so he wouldn't fall out of the tree. "I said you're mad at her. She hurt you. She left your family. And you love her so much you can't face that she would let you down. So you blame the guy."

Second stage: anger. "How dare you insult my mother?" The Rock clenched his teeth. "She's a great witch!"

"She is, but she makes mistakes. You can't put people on pedestals you build yourself, because it means you expect them to be a marble sculpture of perfection." Jack struggled to remember the analogy from Rapunzel's essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts about what to do when a wizard you know and trust turns over to the dark side. He'd proof-read it for her, and the message really stuck to him, but of course, when he shared it with someone who needed the message, his mind decided to turn off. Not that the Rock's mom was a dark wizard. But the disappointment was still there. "People aren't marble sculptures of perfection. They aren't statues. They're people. They move. You build a pedestal that was geometrically calculated to hold your mom in a certain position. As soon as she shifts her weight, the pedestal will crumble and she will fall. But she only fell because you placed her in such a high regard, which you did because you loved her."

Third stage: bargaining. "If I care for her so much, how could you suggest I could be mad at her? I'm not mad. I must've been the one who messed up somehow. It couldn't have been her. I disappointed her. I was the one who messed up. That's why she left me. Instead of it being her fault, it's probably just mine. Not hers."

Jack didn't bother arguing with this one. He noticed how the smell of the flowers seemed to loosen its noose on his lungs, and he could tell by the Rock's tone that the Rock knew better. "It's ok to be mad," Jack said. He braced himself for the fourth stage: depression. He almost expected tears of revelation to spiral down the Rock's cheeks, but instead, the Rock just seemed to deflate. His chest sunk, his limbs when limp, and his face went slack. He was silent for a while, and turned his head, staring into nothingness, just letting the grief eat him up. "It's ok to be upset," Jack said. "I'm not going to approach you with senseless optimism and try to make you feel better. You don't need that. You can't keep pushing this away. You're upset. That's ok. You're allowed to feel it."

Finally, the Rock looked up at Jack. Quietly, he said, "It all makes sense now. I don't want it to, though." Fifth stage: acceptance.

"You can't be a stony wall of emotionless power all the time," Jack said. "You don't have to pretend you can't be hurt."

"So you know."

"Know what?"

"That's why my nickname is the Rock. It's my way of coping. To show nothing can break me."

"And nothing can break you." Jack clamped his shoulders. "But things can sculpt you and chisel away at you. And it hurts. But it makes you all the better. Out of curiosity, what is your name?" Jack remembered it must've been called at the sorting ceremony years ago, but he blanked.

The Rock breathed slowly. "Columbus. I was named after my mom. Columba. She was named after a constellation. It means dove. Symbol of peace. The name of a home-wrecker. Ironic, huh? You can't be all that surprised I was eager to take a nickname."

The sick smell of the flowers was gone and replaced with a sweet aroma that didn't fit the mood. "I'm assuming you don't want me to tell anyone anything."

"The only reason I blabbed was because the scent was driving me insane. And you only told me you were a Mudbl- sorry, I mean, you only told me you were a Muggle-born because you were trying to figure out why I was dying from the smell of flowers. Your motives are so much more noble." Columbus bit his lip and chuckled.

"We don't need to make the Unbreakable Vow not to tell each other's secrets, do we?" Jack said, climbing down the tree.

Columbus climbed down after Jack. "Even if you do blab my secret, I wouldn't tell yours in retaliation."

Jack looked at Columbus in confusion. "Why?"

"We're Slytherins. We have a reputation for manipulating, but just because we're good at it doesn't mean we like it. Think of me as an everyday human being, not a Slytherin. Why would I refuse to tell your secret?"

Jack smiled. "And if you blab my secret, I won't tell yours." Columbus nodded at Jack and continued collecting flowers. Jack knelt next to him and began sorting them away in the baskets. "So… do I still call you the Rock?"

"Unless you want me to beat you up again."

Jack was glad the sentiment was gone. It was kind of awkward. This was the kind of socializing Jack appreciated. "I let you win, you know. I didn't want to make you look bad in front of your friends."

The Rock snorted and effortlessly pulled the dirt surrounding one of the flowers loose, an uprooting Jack had been having trouble with for a while now. "Obviously."

* * *

Jack exited the Forbidden Forest late that night, definitely past curfew, but not as late as he expected to be. "Hey," Jack called. "I can take both the baskets to Sprout's office. You should probably go back to the dorms. You've had a night. I can collect both our wands, too. I'll just meet you in the Dungeon."

Of course, the Rock hadn't been letting on how shaken he was throughout the remainder of detention, but when he locked eyes with Jack, he didn't bother hiding it. "That'd be awesome. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." And Jack wasn't just brushing off the thanks. He meant it. He took both baskets and parted ways with the Rock, walking down to Sprout's greenhouse. He forgot which greenhouse was her office, but he assumed the one with the cozy inviting fire shining through the windows must've been it. Despite the fact he was a Slytherin and every other Hufflepuff resented his presence, Hiccup was always inviting Jack down to Hufflepuff Basement, and Jack always admired the cozy, but not stuffy, atmosphere of the fireplaces and low-to-the-ground couches, with scented candles and buffet tables…

The greenhouse Jack approached had a round circular door with a handle in the middle, much like the entrance to the Hufflepuff tunnels that lead to the dormitories. Jack eagerly swung the door open. "Professor Sprout?" he called. He bit his lip in embarrassment. He should've knocked. Well, too late now.

"Are you boys back yet?" Sprout's voice echoed through the greenhouse. She appeared at the door and took the baskets from Jack. "My! That was awfully quick!"

"It's almost 11:00."

"Still, I expected you to be well past midnight… no matter. Where is the other boy?"

"I sent him back to the castle. The flowers… the smell made him sick. He persevered, though, and we got every last flower." Sprout examined the plants and seemed surprised her high expectations were met. "Did you know the flowers could make us sick?"

Sprout looked at him in confusion. "I've never seen anyone get sick by these flowers. Night Phlox can't do anything on its own unless mixed with Boom Berries in a potion. It's supposed to heal psychological trauma. The flowers smell wonderful; how could they make one sick?" Jack looked at Sprout inquisitively. She was telling the truth. Of course, a Hufflepuff would never encounter troubles with Night Phlox if the poison or whatever was triggered by grudges against Muggles and Muggle-born. If Jack's suspicions were right. But none of it made sense. Nonetheless, he wasn't able to tell Sprout about the experience. That would mean spilling the Rock's secret.

"Well, we're boys. We find the lovely aroma of flowers rather repelling sometimes. Anyway, may I retrieve our wands?"

Sprout handed Jack two wands, both equal in length, both made of ebony wood. "Good look telling them apart," Sprout said, smiling at Jack. She knew he wouldn't have any trouble. A wizard just knows his wand. Sure enough, he balanced them in his hands, and the one in his left hand seemed sturdier, while the one in his right hand, though heavier, seemed flimsier to him. His wand was the one in his left hand, obviously.

"I got it," he said with a chuckle. He read Sprout's face one more time: did she know anything of the Night Phlox? It didn't appear so. Jack turned and left the greenhouse.

When he entered Slytherin Dungeon, Jack knew he could easily find the Rock in the fifth-year boys' dormitory to return the wand, so he decided to sit down for a while with Flynn, who'd been waiting for him by the fireplace. It was almost like watching a coziness, a sense of home and comfort, dancing out of reach as Jack paced across a stone floor to reach the couch across Flynn. "You stayed up for me. I'm flattered."

"You better be. You know, it's a Saturday night. I expected more people would be hanging in the Common Room this late. But no. Everyone's chilling in their dorms. How'd it go?"

"Well, it was just harvesting flowers in the Forbidden Forest. It was supposed to be a bonding exercise to kill the inner house mutiny or whatever. Guess it worked."

"Slytherin grudges aren't easy to reverse."

"They aren't."

"Flowers shouldn't do the trick."

"Well, they didn't. Not exactly. We… called truce just to get through the detention easier. You know, working together to pick flowers. We agreed that fighting again would just get us in more trouble, you know? So we're just not going to dwell on it anymore. We didn't resolve it as much as realize our altercation wasn't a priority." Partial truth. The only really big lie was that last sentence. "There's no time to fight, anyway. We have OWLs to prepare for, remember?"

"Ah." Flynn, a sixth-year, had already taken his. "Good luck with those."

"Encouraging."

"So… I guess I'll be blunt with it. Did you get him to stop mocking Muggle-borns? I tried to explain everything as gently as possible to the little Hufflepuff girl, but she was really shaken up about it."

Jack nodded, more to assure himself. "I'm pretty sure I cleared the name of Muggle-borns."

"What'd you tell him?"

"That we're not special. We're not awesome. We don't think we're any better just because we have random magic powers after coming from a non-magic line. We're just as faulted and just as vulnerable as any other wizard. We're the same. We deserve to be held to the same expectations along with any other pureblood or half-blood or whatever. That's not a privilege. That's a challenge. Equality doesn't mean getting the same goods; it means along with that getting the same judgement as any other wizard. We, like they, need to be held to our faults."

"We. Did you phrase it as 'we', as in, you told him you were a Muggle-born?"

"It slipped. He won't tell though."

"Jack, you assume the best of everyone."

Jack didn't bother arguing. He knew he was right. "Yeah, ok, my bad."

Flynn rubbed his chin in contemplation. "I know that's just a nutshell summary of everything. You were gone for a couple hours. Did anything else happen worth mentioning?"

"No fist-fights; no spells or duels; no altercations you would find amusing."

"Well, that's one wizard down to Team Muggle-Born Activist. The rest of the house to go."

"Team Muggle-Born Activist? You're not serious."

"Nah. There shouldn't be teams. This isn't a competition. It's enlightenment."

"Equality Enlightenment."

Flynn couldn't help but smile. "After all, a spark of light underground illuminates and expels darkness for quite a distance."

"You could've totally been a Ravenclaw," Jack said with a light smirk.

"The Sorting Hat considered it. But it said something about having passion for my cause over victory or something, and then it put me here."

"I guess that makes sense. We shouldn't have an aim to turn the minds of the entire house, but we should care for Muggle-borns and work hard for them instead of for our own pride achieved by victory and being right."

Flynn smirked back. "Now, _you_ could've totally been a Ravenclaw."

"The Hat never mentioned it. It was all like, oh, you can be a Slytherin. I argued. It argued back. It didn't offer any alternatives, and I figured it knows best, but…" Jack shook his head. "The only house ever considered for me was the house with the dark reputation. It's really disconcerting."

Flynn's smirk dissolved into a caring smile. "Maybe because you're here to rewrite our dark reputation," he said. "Never have low expectations for yourself, because you will only meet them."

Jack frowned deeper, not in sadness, but in contemplation. "Honestly, my expectations for myself can be a little high sometimes."

"That's not a bad thing. Slytherins are supposed to be determined. The important thing to remember is: if you ever make a mistake or fail at something, don't let it lower your standards for yourself. Keep fighting for that high expectation. Even if you never reach it, you'll reach way more than you originally thought you were capable of."

"Dammit, Flynn, you really should've gone to Ravenclaw."

"Nah. Green's a better color for me, don't you think?" He struck a provocative pose, and Jack nearly fell over laughing.


	4. Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt

Hiccup's POV: First Year

"Everybody listen up!" Astrid Hofferson, a seventh-year Hufflepuff prefect who was also Head Girl and the most stunning girl in the entire school and way out of Hiccup's league so naturally his huge crush, stood up on a barrel in Hufflepuff Basement, calling everyone to attention. "It's almost time for the big Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt!" Cheers erupted across the Basement, and Hiccup leaned over to a friend next to him. "What's that?"

"It's this big competition our house does every year on Halloween night," she said. "That's all I've heard."

"I'm pretty sure I could deduce that much." Hiccup leaned back and rubbed his stomach in contentment. The Halloween Feast had been spectacular. He didn't imagine being able to compete in any competition being so stuffed.

"For our first-years who don't know what the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt is, it's an awesome tradition that's a Hufflepuff secret. It's a competition that takes place after curfew on Halloween, and only the professors here who used to be Hufflepuffs know what we're doing. You can't tell anyone about this." Astrid proceeded to pull out a fat parchment scroll that looked like it was falling apart. "Everyone that ever was apart of Hufflepuff House signed their name on this scroll on Halloween Night, right before the Hunt. Basically, by signing this scroll, you're swearing you won't discuss our tradition with anyone outside Hufflepuff. If you do, your face will erupt in warts and the person you tell will have their hair died blue which can only be undone by a memory charm performed by a Hufflepuff prefect that will obscure their memory of knowing about such activities. Who wants to sign first?"

Hiccup, partially just to impress Astrid, was the first first-year to run up to the scroll and take a special designated quill to sign his name: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III. He blinked up at Astrid. "Is… that all?"

"Yup!" Astrid beamed down at him and grabbed his wrist, raising his arm high into the air. "Our first official initiation of a Hufflepuff for the year of 1686: Hiccup!" The upperclassmen cheered wildly and Hiccup bashfully went back to his seat next to his friends. Except before he got there, all his friends got up and dashed up to the scroll to sign their names. Hiccup realized they were all swearing secrecy before they even really knew exactly what the Hunt was. Whatever. They were young.

Once everyone had signed, Astrid explained how the Hunt worked to the first-years. "As many of you know, one of the most famous Hufflepuffs, if not the most famous, is the esteemed Hengist of Woodcroft, who founded the all-wizard village of Hogsmeade. Still, to this day, the majority of Hogsmeade inhabitants are Hufflepuffs. They cooperate with us in our Hunt. First, we enter a secret underground tunnel that lets out into Dogweed and Deathcap, a Herbology shop in Hogsmeade. Then- oh, Bill, could you pass out the lists now? Thanks. Anyway, these lists tell you exactly what to do in Hogsmeade. It's like a to-do list crossed with a scavenger hunt. The lists are randomized so not everyone is doing the same thing together at the same time. Remember, it's going to be late at night and not all Hogsmeade residents are Hufflepuffs, so keep quiet. Once you finish everything on the list, go back through the tunnel in Dogweed and Deathcap to our Basement and report to the school kitchen. The house elves that work there are honorary Hufflepuff members, an honor bestowed upon them due to their fabulous work in culinary and baking arts. Anyway, the first group to go to the kitchen wins a special prize, and I don't even know what it is this year, but in the past it's usually food related. If you get caught by a non-Hufflepuff and sent back to Hogwarts, you are eliminated from the competition and must take any consequence bestowed on you without ratting out our house. We are Hufflepuffs, and we are loyal."

Everyone seemed super enthusiastic about this, and Hiccup felt homey with the strong connection of Hufflepuff housemates. The only thing that freaked him out was he had never been to Hogsmeade. How on earth was he supposed to do this? Luckily, the founders of the Hunt had already thought of that. "Now, the first- and second-years obviously haven't been to Hogsmeade, and the third-years don't get to go to their first Hogsmeade trip until Saturday. But don't worry. We're all going in groups of two, and you will be paired with an upperclassmen by random. The prefects have already written down all the house members' names on slips of paper and tossed them into this brass cauldron right here." Astrid leaned down and pulled the cauldron to the front. "How many of you have heard of the Goblet of Fire?"

A fourth year with black eyes snapped his fingers as the details came back to him. "Of course! It's an enchanted goblet of… well, fire. You put names into the goblet and the goblet spits out the three people it selects to compete in the Triwizard Tournament."

"What's the Triwizard Tournament?" Hiccup asked.

"A very dangerous competition that Hufflepuff House would absolutely not hold annually for kids as young as eleven years old," Astrid said. "Basically, three wizards compete for a cash prize in a series of games that could possibly kill them."

"Let's not do that," Hiccup mumbled, and everyone in the house laughed.

"But the magic of this cauldron is quite similar. Everyone's names are in here, and the cauldron fuses two papers together to partner up the names of a random underclassman and a random upperclassman. Pour in the dirt!" Hiccup was glad the faces of the other first-years were just as befuddled as his in watching the male prefects for Hufflepuff carry a huge sack of what Hiccup assumed to be magic dirt over to the cauldron. They poured the contents inside the cauldron which already had the slips of paper with the Hufflepuffs' names on them. "Now, Hufflepuff House is tied to the element of the earth, because we believe in loyalty and family, deep bonds and roots. Everything is built off of relationships," Astrid explained to the first-years.

Hiccup wanted to ask what pouring the dirt had to do with that, but he expected he would soon witness the answer to his question. He was right. Yellow calla lilies burst out of every square inch of the dirt, and Astrid picked the petals apart on one and read two names, declaring them partners. She kept doing this for every single flower, and about a fourth of the way in, she said, "Hiccup Haddock and… oh! Hiccup, you're with me." Astrid continued listing the partners while fireworks erupted in his stomach. The Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt was going to prove to be Hiccup's favorite memory of his first year.

* * *

In order to compromise with student safety, the first- and second-years, who weren't permitted to go to Hogsmeade, were blindfolded with their school uniform ties as the Hufflepuffs uncovered secret tunnel somewhere in their dorm. Astrid kept a hand clasped on Hiccup's shoulder as she guided him through the secret passageway.

Since Astrid was Head Girl and leading the line, she and Hiccup were the first in and out of the tunnel into the Herbology shop. She untied his tie from around his face and slung it over his shoulders. "Don't bother to fix it," she whispered, grabbing his arm and taking off in a sprint out of the shop. Once Hiccup fell in step with her, she released his arm and began fumbling with the parchment, which had been tied up with an enchanted string that would only open once they were in Hogsmeade. Astrid made a sharp left as soon as she exited the shop and crunched against the wall. "Give me some light, Hiccup."

Hiccup almost asked how he was supposed to make a discrete fire when he remembered he was a wizard. "_Lumos_!" he chanted, and the tip of his wand cast a bright light. Hiccup cupped a hand around it in order to block the light from shining on anything but the paper. "We're supposed to do everything in order?"

"Yeah. The paper's enchanted. It crosses off each item off itself once we've completed it. But no one would cheat anyway. It takes away the fun. Anyway, number one on our list is go to The Magic Neep and buy mushrooms, salamanders, and Wartcap powder."

Hiccup blushed and muttered the counter charm to dim the light of his wand. "Was I supposed to bring money?"

"No; this is a no-money thing, Hiccup. The owner of The Magic Neep knows we're coming and has some small task for us in order to obtain the items." Astrid folded the parchment and started running silently through the night to the shop, and Hiccup followed maybe slightly louder due to the fact he had minimal experience in sneaking around. Nevertheless, they were fairly quiet as they made their way to what Hiccup found was a greengrocer's.

"Do they sell salamanders in a greengrocer's? And what's Wartcap powder?" Hiccup asked as they swung the door open.

"No, they don't. And it's a special powder used in brewing potions. I have a feeling we're getting potion ingredients, though, and the storekeeper is expecting Hufflepuffs for the Hunt, so he's stocked up with everything. He was a Hufflepuff, too." Astrid, regardless, crept quietly through the darkened store that surprisingly had no charm to protect itself from intruders after hours. "Mr. Gadsden has to be expecting us."

"Are you sure we're at the right place?"

"Of course you are!" a booming male voice said that made Hiccup drop his wand. It didn't fit the mood at all. "Finally. It's been nightfall for quite a while now! I was waiting for the Hufflepuffs."

"We left at the same hour as every year," Astrid said, drawing her wand and swinging it idly. "The moon's just been coming out a lot earlier this year than usual. But that's not important. We're here to pick up mushrooms, salamanders, and Wartcap powder."

"I have everything here." Mr. Gadsden picked up a sack and dangled it in the air. "There's the mushrooms, the salamanders, and a locked Snuffbox with the Wartcap powder."

"Locked?" Hiccup said. "Where's the key?"

"Ah." Gadsden's mouth twisted into a sick smile. "There's the rub."

"We've got to find it?" Astrid asked, receiving a nod. "Well, give us a lead!"

"It's somewhere in this store, of course. If you find the key, you can keep everything in this sack for free. When you're done with the Hunt, leave the sack with the Snuffbox in the kitchens at Hogwarts. The house elves will see it returned. And I will give you one hint, no more, so don't bother asking again. Listen closely." Gadsden paused, silently telling them every next word was important. "I now testify hunger ends when I neglect distinguishing our worth. Begin." Astrid and Hiccup stared blinking at him. "That's all you're getting out of me. Need I repeat it?" Astrid grabbed Hiccup's tie, still hanging undone around his neck, and held her wand to it, using some method of transfiguration to turn it into a quill. She turned over the parchment and wrote the quote down as Gadsden repeated it.

"We can find the key. No problem. Isn't that right, Hiccup?" Astrid turned the quill back into his tie.

Hiccup nodded his head and said the first stupid thing that managed to pass his lips. "Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders."

"Hunger and neglecting distinguishing worth. It's metaphorical hunger. Worth means thinking you're better than someone or entitled… it means… greed! Yes. Greed. The store vault. The key's in there," Astrid said, taking off. Hiccup followed closely behind her as they ran to the back of the store. "In order to get to it, we need to neglect distinguishing our worth. That must mean age. So… distinguishing by worth would mean thinking the older one is going to find the key when it's really you, Hiccup. You're going to figure out how to break this lock." Hiccup's face must've been pretty good, because Astrid sighed and closed her eyes. "You're right; that's impossible."

"This is a Hufflepuff game. Not a Ravenclaw competition. We can't read into these riddles to much. Think really basically. 'I now testify hunger ends when I neglect distinguishing our worth.' We must be missing something… hey! Are you laughing at me?"

"I'm sorry," Astrid said, wiping her eyes. "That was a priceless imitation. You did his voice perfectly."

"Thanks, I-"

"Again!" Hiccup repeated the quote and realized how dead on pitch he was and couldn't help but muffle his laughter.

Willing to procrastinate, Hiccup repeated Gadsden word for word from the beginning, before the hint. "Ok. Wait. I can do this… 'And I will give you one hint, no more, so don't bother asking again. Listen closely. I now testify hunger ends when I neglect distinguishing our worth. Begin.'" Hiccup was careful to harshly execute the "g" in "begin" like Gadsden did, but it didn't come out right. "Begin," Hiccup muttered again, trying to get the voice right. "Begin, begin-"

"Hiccup, that's it! You're a genius!" Astrid grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "The way he said 'begin' so pointedly! It was part of the hint!"

"The beginning of… the words, maybe?" Hiccup said, catching on.

"Let's see. 'I now testify hunger ends when I neglect distinguishing our worth.' Take the first letters, and that's I-N-T-H-E-W-I-N-D-O-W."

"In the window!" they both shouted together. Hiccup ran to the front of the store with Astrid behind him, encouraging him to keep his footsteps quieter. They got to the store window, which was filled with baskets of fruits and vegetables. They couldn't search quickly without ripping the entire display apart, and they needed to be respectful of the property.

"The hint must be more than just letters, of course, but I have a feeling it's nothing crazy metaphorical," Astrid said, eyeing the displayed items.

"After all, this is a Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt, not a Ravenclaw Tower riddle," Hiccup said, looking over her shoulder at the hint. "So thinking concretely…"

"In order to end hunger, you get food. That narrows it down." Astrid looked from the kiwis to the papayas to the squashes. "So we need to neglect distinguishing our worth, which is how much they cost or how much money we have to spend?"

"I think that's our best bet," Hiccup said. "But how do we 'neglect distinguishing'?"

"Price tags don't matter," Astrid said with a nod. "We need to find what looks really good to us."

"Opinions aren't going to help, are they? Every Hufflepuff has a different favorite food. We esteem ourselves on our cultural taste buds."

"I guess so. You're the viking kid who likes to eat sheep flesh or something?"

"Mutton," Hiccup corrected. "And that's obviously not a fruit or vegetable in this case."

"This is a Hufflepuff Hunt," Astrid said, pursing her lips. "Helga Hufflepuff's favorite food, perhaps? She was known for food charms and implanting house elves in the Hogwarts kitchens, teaching them all her recipes. Most of the food records of Helga Hufflepuff have been lost by wizards and witches, but our house elves in the kitchens know all her recipes." Hiccup raised his eyebrows. "I swear I'm not making that up. It's in _Hogwarts: A History_. You're a first-year; you must've gotten to that part in you're required reading."

Hiccup concentrated. "You're right, I did. But it never mentioned her favorite food. That's kind of crazy."

"Think like Helga," Astrid thought. "Barrels. The entrance to our Basement is barrels. What goes in barrels stored in basements?"

"Wine." Hiccup shook his head in exasperation. How where they going to figure this out.

"Hiccup! You're a genius! I am _so _glad I got partnered with you this year!" Astrid grabbed him and gave him a kiss on his left cheek. He felt like he was about to explode. "Wine, of course! And what fruit makes wine?"_  
_

"Grapes," Hiccup said, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Astrid reached for the basket of grapes and dug her hand through. Hiccup took the basket and held it for her so she could use both hands, and she smiled at him thankfully. "I got it!" she squealed, pulling from the basket a key that was dipped in cheap purple paint that was obviously intended to camouflage the key with the grapes. Hiccup placed the basket back in the window as Astrid retrieved the sack of ingredients. Hiccup met her outside, where she read step two off the parchment. "Ready? 'Brew the Fire Protection Potion in a cauldron at Potage's Cauldron Shop.' How are we going to know which cauldron to use?"

"We hope it's obvious when we get there," Hiccup shrugged, following Astrid as she sprinted in what seemed to be a random direction to Hiccup. He found her adventurous spirit endearing and followed after her, smiling, naming their future children.

"Here." Astrid entered a shop that was much stuffier than the greengrocer's. Without being asked, Hiccup lit his wand for Astrid.

"Which cauldron?"

"I'm guessing the one already set in the fireplace with a paper listing a potion recipe stuck to it." Astrid cast a quick unsticking charm and the parchment fluttered to the floor. She lit the fire and let the water boil, brewing the potion as necessary. "Hiccup, the recipe says at the end to be sure to find some vials to store the potion."

"No problem. After all, Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders." When Hiccup said this the first time at the greengrocer's, he felt so ridiculous about it that he'd been waiting until he could bring the comment up again in mockery of himself and make it some inside joke instead of some quote that made him look rather stupid.

Luckily, Astrid laughed and nodded, getting the reference. "Yeah, but this recipe actually says we can find some vials in the top left drawer of her desk. Madam Potage's desk. She owns the shop."

"Ah. Of course." Hiccup found the vials in an unlocked drawer and brought them over. The potion was a beginner's potion, and a seventh-year would have no trouble brewing it, so Astrid finished rather quickly and poured half of the potion in each vial. "We'll need these eventually. Store yours in the inner pockets of your school robes."

"I'll kill the fire while you read the next step on the list. Here, my wand's already lit." Hiccup handed her his yew-wood wand and began extinguishing the flames. It was the only thing about potion brewing he was good at.

"Step three says, 'Go to Tomes and Scrolls and find a book by Bathilda Bagshot about Divination practices.' She's got a whole shelf dedicated to her. It'll be easy to find."

"Then what do we do with it?"

"Step four says, 'At Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, find the short peacock feather quill and without ink write-' Well, I'm getting ahead of myself, but we write something in the book without ink so there must be some charm that allows us to write in the book at have the message disappear so when the book is returned, it's not tarnished."

"How do we return everything?" Hiccup asked as they left Potage's Cauldron Shop.

"We take everything to the kitchen at the end and the house elves do it all for us. I know; as a younger student I always felt bad about making them do all the clean-up work. But they feel, like, indebted to Helga Hufflepuff after she gave them amazing jobs in the kitchens and helped them escape great prejudice. They feel best when helping us out. And in return, they love nothing more than when we treat them like friends. Sit down in the kitchens and talk with them occasionally. I'm the only Hufflepuff who does this, but sometimes I even help them cook. You should come down and help sometime."

"I think I will," Hiccup said, happy partially because he was giving back to the community but mainly because he was getting opportunities to spend lots of time with Astrid.

"After all, someone has to inherit my post when I graduate," she said, and Hiccup was reminded of the huge six-year age gap. Well, technically, it could be five. Hiccup was one of the oldest in his grade, considering he had a birthday in the late fall, October 31. Since he wasn't allowed to start Hogwarts until he was eleven, not a day earlier (or, in his case, two months earlier), that meant he turned twelve during the school year before the great majority of his friends. He never really told anyone it was his birthday, though, because he didn't want to make the Halloween celebrations all about him.

As it turned out, there were two books by Bagshot on Divination: _The Oracle of Palombo_ and _Omens, Oracles, & the Goat_. Astrid pointed to _The Oracle of Palombo_. "This is a historical case study while this one is a basic overview." Astrid pointed to the other book. "We should only take one, because chances are, another group might need the other book."

"Do we need a certain one?" But Hiccup knew the answer to that one. He looked at the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt to-do list/scavenger hunt. "It says the book _about_ Divination, not its history. I think the basic overview might be the right one."

Astrid pursed her lips. "You're probably right. I can't think of any other way to approach without over complicating it, which is the last thing we need to do." She took the only copy of _Omens, Oracles, & the Goat_ and led the way out of Tomes and Scrolls. Luckily, Scrivenshaft's Quil Shop was right across the street. "Ok, my particularly good finder. The short peacock feather quill."

Normally, peacock feathers were rather long, and since they were all stored together in one rather large barrel, Hiccup and Astrid had to dig through in order to find the smallest one. After five minutes, Astrid muttered to herself, "It should stand out. Small peacock feathers aren't that common."

"So, should I go look on the shelf with the rare quills?" Hiccup said, pointing across the store. Astrid seemed to notice it for the first time and closed her eyes, as if she felt a bit ridiculous.

"I'll keep searching this barrel, but it's probably over there. Call me over when you find it." It wasn't much longer until Hiccup called Astrid over to examine the short peacock feather quill. "Step four says, 'At Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, find the short peacock feather quill and without ink write "_Aparecium_" in the front cover.' You go ahead and do that, Hiccup."

He spoke the word as he wrote it, without ink, exactly where directed. "Isn't that a charm that reveals hidden messages or invisible writing?"

"Yeah. Step five says, 'Follow the instructions of the hidden message.' So what does the book say?"

"Ugh. Back to the greengrocer's. 'Find a large pumpkin at The Magic Neep and carve it behind the shop.' What do we carve into it, though?"

"Easy. A Jack o' Lantern."

"A what?"

"You don't know what that is?" Astrid led the way out of Scrivenshaft's, and Hiccup kept the quill in his school robes, just in case they might need in later. Probably not, though. "Well, you cut the top part of a pumpkin out, and then you gut it; you know, take out all the insides and seeds. Then, you cut a face in she outside of the pumpkin and put some candle as a source of fire inside the pumpkin so the face glows. Do you not do that where you're from?"

Hiccup shook his head. "Sounds like a satanic ritual."

Astrid thought about that for a while. "Doesn't it?" She shrugged it off and Hiccup followed her back to the greengrocer's. They couldn't find Gadsden in the store so they decided to check out back. Sure enough, he was standing in a field of enchanted pumpkins. At least, Hiccup was pretty sure they were enchanted, because they were as tall as Hiccup.

"What's the price for a mega pumpkin?" Astrid said, prepared for whatever Gadsden was sure to have in store.

"Oh, the pumpkin is yours for the taking, whichever you pick," Gadsden said. "There's just a small catch."

"A catch and a price really aren't that different," Hiccup said, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe it's less of a catch and more of a task."

"What do we need to do to get the pumpkin?" Astrid asked loudly.

"I said you could have it. It's just what you need to do with it that's the problem." Gadsden thrust a large butcher's knife toward Astrid, and she took it. Hiccup assumed it must be for the pumpkin carving. "Hufflepuffs are renowned for hard work and trusting one another, which is most commonly seen in teamwork," Gadsden continued. "So when you carve this pumpkin, you need to work together as one unit. One of you needs to wear this enchanted blindfold that makes cheating by peeking impossible." Gadsden tossed the wadded up rag to Hiccup. "The person with the blindfold must carve the pumpkin, and the other person can't do anything but give directions."

"I don't know anything about carving pumpkins," Hiccup said slowly. "Maybe it's best you give the instructions and I stay blindfolded, following your lead."

Astrid nodded and set down the butcher's knife, securing the blindfold around Hiccup's long narrow head. "Just don't cut yourself. Be super careful with the blade, ok? And pay special attention to your fingers. Those'd be the first things you'd accidentally lop off."

"Super," Hiccup groaned, taking the blade from Astrid.

"Turn to your right," Astrid said. "Keep going… stop! Now just keep walking forward. Keep a hand, not the one with the blade, out in front of you so you know when you get to the pumpkin. Great. Now climb."

It was hard climbing with a butcher's knife onto a large pumpkin, but Hiccup managed. "Are we allowed to use magic?"

"No!" Gadsden barked. "I didn't take your wands, but no matter. I'll easily see if you cheat."

Astrid shushed him. "Now, find the stem. Great. You're going to cut around the top, maybe a forearm away in radius." As Astrid instructed exactly how to carve the Jack o' Lantern, Hiccup could hear other teams coming to the backyard of The Magic Neep and beginning the task. Hiccup tried to block it all out and listened only to Astrid's voice.

Finally, they finished carving their pumpkin first, but they didn't have much of a lead on some of the other groups. "Are we done? Can I remove the blindfold?" Hiccup asked Astrid. She relayed the question to Gadsden, who shouted back approval. Astrid pulled the ragged scratchy cloth away, leaving Hiccup's hair quite tangled in the back. "What's step six?"

Astrid read it to herself and summarized it to Hiccup. "We need to get into Hog's Head Inn and take some wood from the fireplace and bring it back here to put inside our pumpkin. Then we light the fire. But that can't be right."

"Why not?"

"Aberforth Dumbledore, our headmaster's brother, runs the Hog's Head Inn. He's a Gryffindor. He wouldn't know about the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt!"

"Maybe we're supposed to sneak in unnoticed." Hiccup looked at Astrid's, whose eyes flashed worriedly, communicating she didn't want to believe him but she knew he was right. "He's got a hex to keep people from entering after hours, huh?"

"Somebody must be staying at Hog's Head Inn who's a Hufflepuff," Astrid said to herself. "I remember something like this a while back. Alec, who graduated two years ago, told me that his first year he had to sneak into a Ravenclaw's shop in order to get something. A Hufflepuff who worked there covered all the Hufflepuffs' tracks, though."

"How did Alec sneak in?"

"The Hufflepuff, the one who worked there, cast some charm to override the security hex. My boyfriend still had do some special trick to avoid setting off any alarms…"

Astrid babbled on as they snuck over to Hog's Head Inn. Hiccup was still stuck on her "boyfriend" who was two years older than she was. And they even had matching names. Alec and Astrid…

"…Then we'll go through the window. That make sense?" Hiccup snapped back to reality just in time.

"Who's window, again?"

"The Hufflepuff who's staying in Hog's Head."

"How will we know which window is his?"

"Were you listening to me, Hiccup?"

"Uh… sorry, I just… thought I saw a professor who's not a Hufflepuff walking around Hogsmeade-"

"Did you?" Astrid's eyes grew panicked.

"Trick of the light."

"Well, anyway, I assume the Hufflepuff with have some kind of flag sporting Hufflepuff colors or some clear symbol like that hanging out his window so we can find him."

They arrived at the Inn. "Walk around?" Hiccup suggested.

"Check every window carefully." Finally, at the back of the Inn, Astrid found a yellow-and-black checkered doormat hanging out over the windowsill, as if someone had left it there to dry after being washed. "It's the fifth floor!"

"No, sixth," Hiccup corrected. "See?"

"That would make sense!" Astrid said as she snapped her fingers. "Step six of the Hunt… sixth floor…"

"Is there a ladder or something?" Hiccup said, walking away from the Inn to see if something was hidden in the darkness.

"No, no, we need to use magic." Astrid took out her wand and ran through a mental inventory of spells. "What can we use to fly ourselves up?"

"Maybe we need to give them a message to send down some kind of a rope for us to climb." Hiccup shrugged. "We can chuck our wands through the window."

Astrid looked at him in the eye for a couple seconds of silence. "You're kidding."

"Obviously."

"Well, maybe sending him a message is right…" Astrid stomped her foot in frustration. "We can't just shout into the window. We'll wake other people."

"Think: how do wizard organizations send simple, easy, non-time-consuming messages to one another?"

"We cast a Patronus Charm!" Astrid said, whispering the spell and sending a silvery fox through the window.

"Um… a Patronus is not simple or easy."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't time consuming." Sure enough, someone tossed a rope ladder down from the window and Hiccup and Astrid began to climb.

When they reached the top, it turned out that a man wasn't waiting for them, but a woman. "Technically, you were supposed to toss your wands up in order to alert me of your arrival, but the Patronus will do. Impressive." Astrid raised a brow at Hiccup who couldn't help but smile a bit smugly. "Be quiet, now. And remember, once you've gathered wood from the lobby, exit through my room again."

The two tiptoed through the Inn cautiously, knowing that if they were to get caught, this would be where it would happen. And Hiccup did not want Astrid to lose her Hunt her seventh year. She never mentioned having won before, so Hiccup assumed that's why she acted so quickly whenever a task was placed in front of her. She seemed more concerned about time, completing the steps before anyone else; Hiccup was more concerned about getting caught.

"What's step seven?" Hiccup asked.

"It says, 'Place the wood in your Jack o' Lantern and light it with your wand.' We better grab the wood before anybody else gets here."

"I know. Hufflepuff House in its entirety all gathered to take wood from an Inn might draw attention." They both reached the fireplace downstairs, which was in an empty room but still on fire. "Should we extinguish the flames?"

"Taking the fire out might disturb others because it's a main source of heat. We can't wake them up. Do we use the Fire Resistance Potion?"

"No, I think we'd use it for something bigger. Besides, the instructions never said to use the potion," Hiccup said, rolling up the sleeves of his robes. "Does the step say we have to get logs from the fireplace or logs from the Inn?"

Astrid reread the instructions. "It says from the fireplace."

"Well, I'll grab some, piece by piece, from the edge of the fire."

"How will there be enough for everyone?"

"Maybe it's a first come, first serve deal. And that log right there is easy to grab without getting burned."

"Be careful, Hiccup," she called as Hiccup slowly removed a log from the fire. The top fourth of it was still ablaze. "Ok, now what?"

Hiccup looked down at the dirt floor, where he obviously couldn't muffle the flames. He tried to keep his attention on the fire without really thinking about it so he wouldn't freak out. "The water spell."

"_Aguamenti_!" Astrid whispered, distinguishing the flames and spraying Hiccup's face. "Sorry."

"You're fine. We probably need four, five logs to fit in the lantern?" Hiccup turned around to find the next easiest log to pull out and found the firewood had replenished itself, so Hiccup could keep pulling out that same log without taking any firewood. There would be enough for everybody. "Wow. They really go all out on this Hunt. Who plans it, anyway?"

"Hufflepuffs in Hogsmeade," Astrid said. And what are you talking about?"

Hiccup explained the charm as he pulled out the next log, and before he knew it, they both had an armful of logs to lug out of the Inn. They found their way up to the sixth floor and Hiccup climbed down the rope first, catching all their logs as Astrid tossed them down. As Astrid climbed down the rope, Hiccup sat on the logs to make sure no Hufflepuffs would try and steal them. But as one group from the Hunt passed by, they gave his firewood a longing look and simply ran on. Of course Hufflepuffs wouldn't cheat. They were too good-natured. Astrid grabbed some of the logs, Hiccup the rest, and they ran back behind The Magic Neep's.

Hiccup loaded the firewood in the pumpkin and shouted, "_Incendio_!" The fire lit up, casting an eerie glow through the face of the pumpkin. Astrid looked absolutely pleased, euphoric, delighted, awestruck, and pretty much every other emotion that had anything to do with happiness or contentment. Hiccup was horrified. This fiery pumpkin looked like they were summoning Satan. What kind of a Halloween tradition is this?

"Ok, step eight: 'Go to Honeydukes and follow instructions provided there.'"

"So we leave our pumpkin ablaze while we run to a candy shop?" Hiccup shouted.

Astrid shushed him. "Don't wake anybody up!"

"As if the fire won't do that?"

Gadsden approached them. "Nah. There's a huge rumor that this year I'm taking all the Jack o' Lanterns and burning them behind my shop tonight in order to get rid of them, so the villagers know not to panic about the flames. I'll watch the fire, so don't worry your long narrow head off." Gadsden ruffled Hiccup's hair. "But you might want to be quiet and hurry to the sweet shop."

So Astrid led the way. When they got there, there were several lists tacked to the door, all identical. Over all the pieces of parchment was a sign that said _TAKE ONLY ONE, PLEASE_. Three other groups were already inside the store. "Are they ahead of us?" Hiccup asked, worried.

"Remember, these lists for the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt are all in random order. Some of them don't even have the same tasks. We were the first to light our Jack o' Lanterns, though. But in the end, we really don't know how we rank." Astrid grabbed a list and read it off. "Ok. Here's the mega scavenger hunt portion."

"Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders," Hiccup muttered. "Should we rip the list in half and do double the searching in half the time?"

"Good idea!" But the paper wouldn't rip. "I don't think we're allowed."

"Well, number one?"

"We need to grab a sack by the front door first to collect everything. Next, we need four Licorice Wands." And so they began their search. By the time they reached the end of the list, they had the four previously stated Licorice Wands; two Chocolate Frogs; a bag of Jelly Slugs; a box of Glacial Snow Flakes; a paper bag of No-Melt Ice Cream; seven Sugar Quills; two Halloween Combo Specials that were each a box of assorted Skeletal Sweets, Pumpkin Pasties, Blood-Flavored Lollipops, and Spindle's Lick'O'Rish Spiders; Exploding Bonbons; and a box of Share-With-Friends Candy Combo that had a wide assortment of Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as well as Saltwater Taffy, Toothflossing Stringmints, and Crystallized Pinapple.

"Step nine?" Hiccup asked as he slung the sack over his shoulder. They had a lot of candy. Now _that_ was a Halloween Hunt. Not demonic glowing pumpkins.

"It says: 'Present candy to the man waiting outside Hogsmeade Station.'"

"Is that the train we used to ride over from King's Cross?"

"Yeah, it is." Astrid pouted. "Are we supposed to give all our candy away?"

"I really hope not," Hiccup mumbled. But they had no choice but to meet up with the man. He was very short and old, maybe even older than the great Dumbledore, and he had a mischievous look painted on his face as he drew he wand and mumbled something incoherent, his focus directed on the bag of candy he'd taken from them. When he was done, he smiled a semi-toothless smile up at Hiccup as he handed the sack to Astrid. Hiccup scratched behind his ear. "So, what did you do?"

"Well, I cast a Portkey Charm on the bag!" The old man had a lisp, so Hiccup had to listen very closely. "You have five minutes before it wares off."

"What's a Portkey-? Astrid, wait up!" Hiccup ran after her. "What's going on?"

"A Portkey is a… you know how the Floo Network works, right?"

"It's green powder in a fire that takes you where you want to go."

"It only carries one person at a time and can take you wherever, whenever you want. Portkeys are different. They take as many people that can touch the object at once and teleport them to a specific location. Some are activated by touch, others are set at a certain time or in a time window they can work. We have five minutes before this isn't a Portkey anymore."

"You're touching the bag. Why aren't you teleporting?"

"It needs heat energy. Here, read step ten." Astrid held the list to Hiccup, who took it quickly.

"It says, 'Take the heat-activated Portkey and travel through the fire of your Jack o' Lantern to Hogwarts.' Excuse me?"

"We take our Fire Resistance Potions, each grab a hold of the bag, and jump into the flames. Then we'll be teleported back to Hogwarts."

"I thought we were supposed to use the entrance in the Herbology shop-"

"Usually we do. Sometimes, something different happens. This is one of those times. Hurry! We can't let the Portkey expire before we get to the fire! And we have to get there first! We're this close to finishing the Hunt!"

"With everybody's mixed up list, someone else could've already won," Hiccup said, hating to sound like a pessimist.

"Yeah, but think positively, Hiccup!" Astrid sprinted around the back of the greengrocer's and uncorked her potion. "Drink! Drink!" So Hiccup gulped his own potion and grabbed the sack with Astrid. "Just dive through the mouth of the pumpkin!"

Diving into the mouth of Satan. Oh joy. Hiccup jumped with Astrid, holding onto the sack for dear life. The fire consumed him, and he felt as if he were slowly turning into an ice statue. Then, something hooked behind his navel, and he shot through a dark tunnel to hell.

* * *

Astrid and Hiccup collapsed onto the floor of the Hogwarts kitchen together. Astrid stood up quickly while Hiccup curled into the fetal position. That did not just happen.

"We're here!" Astrid called to the house elves. "Are we first?" Suddenly, cheering erupted all around Hiccup, who forced himself to stand up. All the house elves were cheering wildly, and Hiccup smiled up at Astrid. "We won! We won the Hunt!" she shrieked, gathering him up into a rib shattering hug.

The house elves began taking all the equipment away from them: the book, the quill, the vials that held the potion, et cetera. Even the bag of candy was confiscated, much to the dismay of Hiccup. "We don't get to keep the candy?"

"Oh, no! Of course you get to keep your candy! Dobby would never steal the wonderful sweets and treats belonging to Mistress Hofferson!" A house elf beamed up at Astrid. "Dobby shall hide the bag of candy so only Mistress Hofferson and her friend can get into it. Oh, yes! Everyone else has to return their candy, but Mistress Hofferson gets to keep her candy, because she won the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt! Indeed, she is extraordinary."

"Who's Dobby?" Hiccup muttered.

"That's him," Astrid replied with a chuckle. "He refers to himself in the third person."

"So that's the prize? We keep our candy?" Hiccup was surprised, but certainly not disappointed.

"Oh, no!" Dobby said with a smile. "The friend of Astrid shall see the wonderful prize soon."

"Hiccup. Hiccup Haddock." He held out a hand to the house elf in greeting. Dobby just looked up at him, confused. "It's a handshake. It's what you do when you meet a new friend. You shake hands."

Dobby beamed and swung Hiccup's hand side to side. "Oh, how marvelous! Any friend of Mistress Hofferson I would be delighted to serve! Oh, yes! Mister Haddock, you will be most delighted with my service!"

"Um, thanks, but don't beat yourself up or anything," Hiccup said. "Service is a little over the top. We can be friends, though. Equals."

Dobby's wide eyes looked ready to pop as he fawned over Hiccup. "What a great merciful wizard the Mister Haddock is! Indeed, I will serve my friend even greater now!" Dobby took off with the candy and hid it away for them.

"I like him," Hiccup muttered.

"He's my favorite, too." Astrid smiled. "You know, when I come down and help out in the kitchen…"

"Yeah! I think I'll start coming, too. You show me the ropes, and when you graduate, I'll take over."

Astrid smiled. "That'd be wonderful, Hiccup. You're going to be a great Hufflepuff, you know? I'll put in some good words for you."

"Huh?"

"Next time I report the conduct of my house to Dumbledore, I'll give you my highest praise." She clapped his shoulder, and Hiccup blushed. He was fighting every instinct not to curl back up in the fetal position and explode with happiness.

Suddenly, the house elves crowded in a circle around them. One of the older ones with an unfitting lower voice put on a pair of spectacles and began reading from a parchment. "Mistress Hofferson and Mister Haddock, the house elves congratulate you on your completion of the Hufflepuff Halloween Hunt. In reward for placing first in this competition, the house elves would like to grant you with these enchanted coins. They seem small, but whenever you flip the coin in the air, whatever dish you request to be served shall be brought to you for your pleasure and consumption at any time. Further more, elaborate charms have been placed on these coins for desecrate dining. You could have a full turkey dinner brought to you in the middle of a class and no one would notice a thing. Not even Hufflepuff classmates or professors. They only last until the end of the school year, and you will return your coins before exiting Hogwarts Castle for the summer holiday. Again, congratulations, and bon appetit!"

Hiccup was so happy he blacked out.


	5. Transfiguration: Use With Caution

Merida's POV: Fourth Year

"I don't have time for yer bloody riddles!" Merida growled.

"That is incorrect," the eagle knocker on the door leading to Ravenclaw Tower said. "Would you like me to repeat the riddle?"

"I just need to get me friend!" Merida was beginning to get antsy. She held the cat close to her chest, and the cat had a serious shedding problem. It started pawing at her scarlet-and-gold Gryffindor tie, and Merida adjusted the cat in her hold.

The door just repeated the riddle. "Give me food, and I will live. Give me water, and I will die. What am I?"

"An over-hydrated loon."

"That is incorrect. Would you like me to repeat the riddle?"

"Bloody fire o' hell, I-"

"Correct." The door swung open. Merida shook her head. What did she say that triggered the door? It hit her like a brick. Fire. Food fuels it and water kills it. Merida groaned as she entered the Ravenclaw Common Room.

The thing about Ravenclaws that Merida rather appreciated over the years was if you were a non-Ravenclaw that managed to enter their dorm, they were rather pleased, because it proved that you were not an idiot, and Ravenclaws preferred to be in the company of non-idiots. She approached a table in the middle of the common room where boy Merida knew to be in fourth-year, just like she was, was sitting. Besides, he was highly attractive and Merida decided if she had to ask somebody, it might as well be him. "Excuse me; have ye seen Rapunzel?"

Even if you didn't know Rapunzel, you knew who she was. Her long blond hair really made her stand out. "Yeah, I think she's up in the dorm studying," said the boy with really pretty eyes.

"Do ye think she'd mind if I went up there? I really need to talk with her." Despite the urgency of the moment, Merida almost hoped he would say: _She's actually kind of busy right now. Why don't you stay and hang out with me?_

"Nah, she won't mind," the boy said. His voice was enchanting. "If you really need to talk to her about something important, anyway. Rapunzel loves helping others with homework."

"Yeah. Homework help," Merida repeated. He didn't understand exactly how accurate that was. "Thanks for yer help." The boy smiled back at her and told her it was no problem. Merida was going to have to get his name from Rapunzel later. Ravenclaw Tower was structured similarly to Gryffindor Tower in that a circular staircase took you up to the dorm rooms, so Merida easily figured which door led to Rapunzel's dorm and walked in to find her explaining the proper wand motion for _Petrificus Totalus_ to a group of first years.

"Now, go practice on one another!" Rapunzel called to the young girls as they dashed out of her room, who, in return, gave her great thanks. "Hey, Merida! Aw, what a cute cat!"

"That's what I need to talk to ye 'bout," Merida grumbled, setting the cat down on Rapunzel's bed. "I was practicin' Transfiguration with me friend in me room, and I was tryin' to turn the clock on the shelf into a chicken egg. I aimed incorrectly an' hit the mirror behind the clock an' the spell bounced back an' hit me friend."

"What happened to her?"

Merida pointed to the cat. "There she is. To everyone who's been askin' as I carried her over to yer dorm, I've named her Mittens. The white paws. See?"

Rapunzel picked up the brown-and-orange striped cat. "Well, Mittens, if it helps, you make an adorable kitty," she said nervously. Both Mittens and Rapunzel turned to Merida. "What did Professor McGonagall say?"

"Gracious, I didn't tell her!" Merida gasped, and even Mittens gave Rapunzel a look that read she was absolutely crazy.

"She's your Head of House and the Transfiguration professor. Give me your excuse."

"Gryffindors are her pride an' joy in Transfiguration classes. We're supposed to have a knack for it. She'd be dreadfully disappointed if we messed up this big. Plus, it's embarrassin'."

"Mittens… who is this, anyway?"

"That's Kelly MacDonald. But ye ain't goin' to call her that. Her name is Mittens." Mittens nodded.

"She's in our year right?" Merida nodded, and Rapunzel sighed, placing the cat on the bed. "And we need to reverse this."

"Ye've got to know somethin'. Who else are we going to ask?"

"Professor McGonagall?"

"No!" Merida protested desperately, and Mittens meowed in agreement. "Besides," Merida continued, "Professor McGonagall would just tell us to try an' figure it out on our own."

"Fine!" Rapunzel muttered to herself, cursing in German, and when she ran out of swears in that language, she switched to French, then Italian, and so on. All the while, she searched through her book shelf, pulling any book she had on Transfiguration and tossing it on her bed, narrowly missing the cat, who jumped off and ran to Merida. Merida scooped Mittens up gently. "A cat, Merida? We're fourth-years! This is stuff you learn once you move onto NEWT classes!"

"Well, whoops."

"This could be very dangerous."

Merida looked into Mittens's eyes and saw a nonchalant gleam, which was a poetic way of saying the cat didn't give a gosh diddley darn. Then again, that might just be what a cat looks like. "We just need to find the Untransfiguration spell."

Rapunzel flipped through another book and threw it on the bed. "Again, need I say: NEWT level material!"

"That's great, Rapunzel. Instead o' focusin' on how screwed I am, can ye help me find the spell?"

"Well, what spell did you use when you were trying to make the clock an egg?"

"The Pullus Jinx."

"That turns things into chickens, not eggs."

"Again: well, whoops." Mittens meowed and jumped out of Merida's arm, leaping onto the bed. She began nosing through the pages of the nearest book, trying to find something, anything, of use.

"A chicken jinx that turns a human into a cat… Merida, can I go to Gryffindor Tower with you and check out that mirror you said the spell rebounded off of?"

"Sure thing. C'mon, Mittens!" Mittens bounded into Merida's arms. "By the way, when we get down to yer Common Room, I want to point out some cute guy to ye. He's got really pretty eyes and this low voice… Can ye tell me his name?"

"I might be able to do better than that." Rapunzel led Merida down to the Common Room, and Merida pointed out towards the boy. "I thought you were talking about him. The girls call his pretty-eyes behind his back, but he has a name, of course. I've been waiting for a real excuse to talk with him." Rapunzel approach pretty-eyes, and Merida almost asked her what the hell she thought she was doing, but she just went with it. "Nikolai," Rapunzel said as she sat down in the seat across from pretty-eyes-whose-name-was-apparently-Nikolai. "You're really good at Transfiguration, right?"

He set down his book, which actually wasn't a school book, but a piece of light reading. "Yeah. Why?"

Merida admired that trait about Ravenclaws. They didn't see anything wrong with owning up to your skill and being proud about it as long as you're not vain. Rapunzel leaned in close and beckoned Nikolai closer so she could whisper what Merida guess was about what had happened and to request his help. Nikolai's face was painted with several expressions, but in the end, he got up without persuasion. "To Gryffindor Tower."

* * *

"Well, what do ye think?" Merida said as she cradled Mittens.

"I just took the mirror off the wall. I haven't had a chance to look at it. Besides, we should take it down to Nikolai so he can help." An old spell cast by the founders of the school wouldn't permit boys to enter girls' dormitories, so Nikolai was waiting down in Gryffindor Common Room. "The mirror's really heavy, though."

"Ye take Mittens. I got the mirror." Merida set Mittens down gently on the floor as she took the mirror from Rapunzel. Merida slowly went down the stairs and tried to ignore the weird looks from everyone else in the Common Room. When the other Gryffindors saw Merida giving it to a Ravenclaw boy, they must've all assumed he was fixing something for her because he was smart enough to do so, and everyone went back to whatever they were doing.

"Did you two check the wall behind the mirror?" Nikolai said, turning it around effortlessly. The sleeves of his school robes slid to his elbows, exposing the toned muscles of his forearms.

"Rapunzel, why don't ye go upstairs with Mittens an' check it out?"

"Why not you?" Rapunzel said, eyeing Nikolai's arms as well.

"I just thought a Ravenclaw would make better observations o' it all."

Rapunzel still didn't want to leave Merida alone with pretty-eyes. "Why don't you come with me? You know the dorm better than any of us."

"Good idea," Nikolai piped in. "You can leave Mittens with me." Mittens's eyes flashed with a rub-it-in kind of glow, and Merida and Rapunzel fought a scowl as they climbed back up to the dorm.

"We can fight over pretty-eyes later. This is about Kelly," Rapunzel said as they trudged up the stairs.

"Mittens," Merida corrected with a smile.

They reached the dorm and looked at the stones that made the wall behind the mirror. Rapunzel touched the architecture gingerly and took out her wand, holding its tip against the bricks. "These walls have a special spell on them to absorb magic cast at their way. Like an eternal _Protego_ charm."

"How can ye tell?"

"Get out your wand." So Merida did, and she copied Rapunzel's position. Placing her wand against the wall, she felt nothing, but then she realized it was more than that… or rather, less than that. It was less than nothing. It felt like a black hole, but how Merida would know what a black hole felt like, she would never know. It wasn't a pulling sensation as much as it was a deflating one. It seemed to drain the power from her wand. She yanked her wand away. "Don't worry," Rapunzel said, reading Merida's tense body language. "It doesn't affect your wand in anyway."

"So… the mirror?"

"One of two things," Rapunzel explained as she exited the dorm behind Merida. "Either it refracted not only the effects of the spell but also its direction, or the mirror is enchanted so that spells pass right through it and into the wall so nothing happens. Obviously, the latter wasn't what happened."

Nikolai was looking at Mittens strangely when Merida and Rapunzel arrived downstairs in the Common Room. "The wall?" he asked Rapunzel.

"Spell-absorbent." Rapunzel pursed her lips and looked at the mirror. "What did you find?"

"Nothing. You take a look," Nikolai said, handing the mirror off to Rapunzel. He then turned to Merida. "Tell me exactly what happened with the Transfiguration mishap."

Merida sat down on the table opposite the armchair Nikolai was propped up in. "Well, we were laughin' an' hangin' out together, not really actually gettin' much homework done together, ye know?" Nikolai looked confused. The idea of getting sidetracked from schoolwork when spending time with friends was obviously foreign to him. Merida continued anyway. "Well, I point me wand… here, I'll show ye exactly how I did it." Merida picked up a quill from the table instead of drawing her wand to avoid accidentally casting anymore Transfiguration spells incorrectly. "Yer the clock on the shelf. So I point it at ye, an' I say, '_Pullus_!' Mittens an' I had were laughing' an' hangin' out together, so I don't really take time to point accurately at the clock. A purple light shoots from the tip o' me wand an' hits the mirror. An' then-"

"Merida." Nikolai leaned forward, his fingertips pressed together. "That's your name, right? Good. I need you to be very careful with your words from this point on. The human visual memory approximately holds only 70% of accurate recollection. Tell me _exactly_ how this next part happened. It's the most important part."

Merida knew it was the important part, obviously, but she also knew Nikolai needed to stress that so she would recall the memory to the greatest possible precision. She felt Mittens crawl up into her lap and stroked the cat for kinesthetic stimulation. "The spell hits the mirror. The mirror glows bright purple. Like, blindin' bright purple that envelopes the entire room. Mittens gets this horrified look in her eyes an' I probably imagined it, but it was almost like the hairs on her head were poofin' out, like how a cat's tail gets bushy when its afraid. The light dies down, an'… Mittens."

Nikolai nodded and… was he smiling? "You found nothing, right, Rapunzel?" He patted his lap, and Mittens jumped off Merida's lap into Nikolai's.

"Nothing," Rapunzel said, shaking her head.

"I'll carry the mirror up," Merida said, taking it from Rapunzel. Merida had already got the pleasure of talking for approximately a full minute with pretty-eyes. It was only fair she gave Rapunzel a turn with him.

"Should Rapunzel go and help you? It's heavy." Nikolai stroked Mittens gently.

"Nah. I'm a Gryffindor. We're strong. Ye Ravenclaws stay behind and discuss theories." Merida placed the mirror back in its proper place and returned to the Common Room quickly, where Rapunzel was gesturing with her hands, looking confused.

Merida sat down beside Rapunzel, who was saying. "The spell couldn't have passed through the mirror and been absorbed by the wall. The purple glow!"

"That's what happens when spells get blocked by a _Protego_ charm," Nikolai argued back.

"_Protego_ charms have a blue glow, not purple!" Rapunzel started playing with the end of her long blond braid.

"This isn't exactly a _Protego_ charm, it's a variation of it. Walls can't cast charms, you know."

"Obviously. So the glow from this particular Shield Charm takes on the color of the light of the spell it deflects?"

"Not deflects. That would be a wizard using the charm. No, the wall absorbed all the energy and destroyed the spell."

"Then something must've went wrong with the shield!"

"Nothing went wrong with the shield! Right, Merida?" Merida, who'd been quiet the whole time, froze when Nikolai pulled her in the conversation.

"I honestly don't know if that was how the shield was supposed to work or not. Ye know, this is the first time anythin' like this ever happened!"

"Well, instead of denying my theories, why don't you tell us what happened? You're looking awfully cool, just sitting there and stroking the pretty kitty." The tone of Rapunzel's voice made his act sound like a scandalous crime.

Nikolai licked his lips. "Let's find a spare dueling room. To be alone." He picked up the cat, and Rapunzel and Merida had no choice but to scamper after him.

* * *

Once Nikolai, Merida, Rapunzel, and Mittens found a spare dueling room. Nikolai cast a quick charm around the room to make sure they truly were alone, then began addressing the cat by her proper name. "Kelly, you're an Animagus."

Mittens meowed in fear and confusion. "Well, if that's all, she can change herself back to human," Rapunzel said. But as she gave Nikolai a look, it was obvious she was waiting for him to say why it wasn't actually that easy.

"Being an Animagus isn't something you're born with. That's being a Metamorphmagus: being able to change your appearance. This isn't the same, though. This is more dangerous. She made herself an Animagus." He rubbed his hands together. "An Animagus is someone who's mastered intense Transfiguration skills and can change herself into a specific animal at will."

"An' back into a human. At will. So why do ye look like someone slapped ye in the face?" Merida hated to be blunt, but it was necessary, with Nikolai looking scared, being all dramatic, and avoiding approaching the problem.

"It's like… flying a broomstick. Merida, you're not born with any special skill to compete in Quidditch, but it's just something you're inclined to do. Kelly, in the same way, must have an inclination to Transfiguration and has potentiality to become an Animagus."

"And she's a cat." Rapunzel nodded slowly. "Now that we've established the obvious…"

"It takes years of practice to become an Animagus. You can seriously hurt, even kill yourself, while trying to master it. Once you master it, you're absolutely fine and don't have to worry about it, but in the mean time, the learning is very dangerous."

"Mittens, did ye know ye were an Animagus?"

"Obviously not," Nikolai said. His beautiful eyes glinted with worry. "She made the transformation because she sensed something when the Transfiguration spell was being absorbed. Kind of like when someone's spying on you, you just know they're there even though you don't seen them. The magic didn't affect Kelly, but she sensed it. Kelly, you got scared. It's a cat thing."

"And it drove her to make the change. And she didn't hurt herself." Rapunzel was starting to catch on. "Now, she needs to change herself back. Isn't there a spell you can use to draw someone out of Animagus form?"

"Yes, but if Kelly's already in her form… she might as well finish learning. She's obviously gifted with the magic required. If she can turn herself back into human, she'll be able to master it in no time." Mittens nodded quickly, saying she sided with Nikolai.

Rapunzel nodded with approval. "Great. We'll tell Professor McGonagall-"

"No!" Nikolai gasped, holding Mittens closely. "Then she'll be reported to the Ministry."

"To register her as an Animagus, yes. I don't think they'd get mad at her for accidentally undergoing a transformation. It just shows her adeptness in an intense area of magic," Rapunzel said.

"But why does she need to be registered?" Nikolai said.

"So the Ministry knows she's an Animagus," Merida replied slowly.

"And why do they need to know? So they can keep tabs on her? They can track her? They can monitor when she's in what form?"

Rapunzel looked at Nikolai suspiciously. "Yeah, but every Animagus registers with the Ministry."

"That's what the Ministry wants you to think. Two-thirds of Animagi, and probably even more than that, are unregistered."

"How would ye know?" Merida said, scoffing.

Nikolai shrugged and blushed, thinking through his response carefully. "Basically how you know Kelly is an Animagus. You just see it happen to people. And the Animagi meet other Animagi and you see a secret world no one knows about and it's absolutely wonderful and… my friend who's an Animagus told me all about it and I would never tell my friend's secret to anyone, including the Ministry, if they don't want me to. I mean, Kelly, it's entirely up to you whether or not you want to keep this a secret." Mittens meowed and cuddled closer to Nikolai, looking cautiously at Rapunzel and Merida.

"We won't tell, Kelly-slash-Mittens. I promise ye. I won't tell anyone if that's what ye want. Rapunzel, how 'bout ye?"

Rapunzel bit her lip. "I promise I won't tell, as long as I can express I think it's a bad idea."

Nikolai rolled his eyes. "Come on. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

* * *

As it turns out, a lot of horrible things could happen.

Thankfully, the whole transformation happened on a Saturday morning, so they had the entire weekend to straighten things out. They decided to use the privacy of the dueling room for Mittens's training. Nikolai decided to teach her because of his "friend" who was an Animagus (Merida knew that was utter bull and could tell Rapunzel was onto him as well), and despite his great instruction and Kelly's Transfiguration talent, things went horrible wrong.

Mittens burst into flames thrice, managed to strike Nikolai with lightning, sent some kind of force field that flipped the dueling table over onto Merida's head (which miraculously didn't knock Merida unconscious), and shot a beam of light at Rapunzel that started making her hair glow bright gold, almost like the sun. Rapunzel was pretty shaken up about it, but it seemed to distract Nikolai from the pain rocketing through his fingers and toes.

"Well," Nikolai said, as he helped Merida set the dueling table back on its legs. "How could things get worse?"

"I don't know," Rapunzel grumbled. "But considering you just said that, watch the castle explode or something."

"I'm pretty sure the founders built the castle so that a couple o' fourteen-year-olds couldn't destroy it while tryin' to help their friend turn into a human again after bein' a cat for the past couple o' hours." Merida grunted as she shoved the table back in its proper position. "An' if we are pessimistic, ye can be sure as hell somethin' will go wrong."

"Sure as _heck_, Merida," Rapunzel corrected. "Say 'heck'."

"Sure as heck."

"Thank-you."

Suddenly, there was a loud boom, and Nikolai shot across the room against the wall. In the middle of the floor stood the body of Kelly with the head of Mittens. "Don't worry! This is good! This is absolutely _great;_ you're getting closer." Nikolai rubbed the back of his head as he, with a notable lack of balance, stumbled back to Kelly to continue teaching her.

"Honestly," Rapunzel said, rubbing her arms. "What is the worst thing that can happen? I'm not saying that nonchalantly; I'm serious. Exactly how could this go horribly wrong?"

"Well, she could die, or she could kill us. I think that's the worst it could get." Nikolai had managed to get Kelly to take on the complete form of Mittens again, and both seemed rather cool about the whole ordeal, while Merida was starting to share Rapunzel's doubt.

"Really, shouldn't we bring in an adult?" Rapunzel said, enunciating each word.

"An adult who wouldn't report her to the Ministry? Good luck finding one," Nikolai said. Merida groaned. She couldn't believe how at the beginning of the day, she thought the guy was super hot. Of course, he still was, and his eyes weren't getting any less entrancing, but he sure as hell- or, rather, sure as heck- was getting rather annoying rather quickly.

"Yer goin' to regret it," Merida said carefully.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine, but thanks. On the count of three, Kelly: one, two, three!"

Merida wished she'd kept her mouth shut because it was almost like saying such a statement out loud would really put Nikolai in a position to regret his decision. A large light exploded from Mittens, and when it died down, she was sitting with pinned-back ears and a bushy tail in a pile of fur that she must've shed from the startling experience. Other than that, she looked perfectly fine. Nikolai, on the other hand, was laying on the floor, unmoving, his beautiful eyes staring outward at nothing.

Rapunzel shrieked and began throwing up. At first, Merida didn't know why, but she crept closer and got a better look. "Look at this! Bloody ripper; his head is on backwards! Rapunzel, ye got to see… actually, I take that back. Ye obviously don't want to look at this."

Rapunzel cast a quick charm to clean up the mess she made. "I can't look at that. Oh, Merlin, it's disgusting."

Mittens walked over and sniffed Nikolai, looking horrified. Merida scooped up the cat. "It's not like there's any blood gushin' or bones stickin' out. His head's just twisted on backwards. Well, now we really can't tell an adult."

"Are you crazy?" Rapunzel screamed.

"We will get in so much trouble for not gettin' a professor in the first place; ye know that. Besides, it's not like Nikolai's dead or anythin'. He's just out cold. C'mon, Rapunzel, there's a remedy for this."

"I'm fourteen years old! I can't heal something of this caliber! This needs to be sent to St. Mungo's!"

"Rapunzel, can ye try?"

"Merida, you don't understand. I don't think this is something I am physically able to heal."

"How could it not be?"

Rapunzel was getting just as exasperated as Merida. "I heal injuries and sickness."

"This is an injury!"

"But this is different. It's not like a broken bone or some kind of wound. It's some kind of magic."

"Yes, it is. An' we heal magic injuries all the time in our Infirmary."

"Well… I'd need stuff in the Infirmary anyway and good luck getting him there without getting noticed."

Merida looked at the way Rapunzel was hyperventilating. Rapunzel knew so much more about healing than Merida did, and maybe Rapunzel was right: this couldn't be healed by a student in the school's Infirmary. "Ok. What do we do, then? Yer the Ravenclaw."

"Well, obviously _Episky_ isn't powerful enough to work…" Rapunzel began twirling her wand. "_Anapneo _heals a choking victim, and that has to do with the neck."

"Choking an' bein' strangled are somewhat similar. Blocked off airway. Can ye at least try the spell?" Rapunzel pointed her wand at Nikolai and muttered the spell as she gripped her wand fiercely. A gushing wind sound slurped through the room, and air exploded from Nikolai's chest out his mouth, twisting his neck back on straight. Deafening snaps popped Merida's ears, and she cringed as she saw a small trickle of blood going through Nikolai's throat. "He's still breathin'. I think ye did good, Rapunzel."

"You mean you think I did _well_. And it didn't heal him all the way."

"Grammar ain't a priority right now, birdbrain. Yer healin' skills are, though, an' ye did well. What's next? An' don't worry 'bout gettin' squeamish; his head's on straight so ye can look at him."

Rapunzel knelt down beside him and felt his airway, his pulse, his temperature, and his mouth. She wiped the bit of blood from the corner of his mouth away. "I don't know."

"Is he goin' to wake up on his own?"

"There's a possibility…"

Mittens nuzzled further in Merida's arms, so Merida held the cat closer. Only then, Merida realized Mittens wasn't trying to nuzzle closer but was trying to jump out of Merida's arms. Merida set the cat down gently, and Mittens ran across the room and closed her eyes. Her paws slipped from underneath her and she bellyflopped on the floor. "What is Mittens doin'?"

"Trying to become human again without Nikolai's help. He may not be able to help her for a long while. And I have a feeling she doesn't want us to use the reverse-Animagus spell. Besides, I don't have the book with me that says what it is."

"It's not yer fault, Mittens," Merida called back encouragingly, knowing Kelly had a predisposition for feeling guilty about things that weren't her fault. Even if it could be argued that this was her fault, it was an accident, and Merida and Rapunzel were just as responsible because they didn't argue with Nikolai on getting someone like Professor MicGonagall to help. Now they really had no choice but to figure it out themselves.

"Of course it isn't," Rapunzel finished, holding Nikolai's head in her lap. She examined his face. "He just needs something to wake him up. _Reparifors_." A purplish-white light surrounded his head. "Oh, god, I hope that works."

"Isn't that a spell to repair paralysis an' other minor maladies?" Rapunzel nodded. "It could work for wakin' up someone who's unconscious."

Rapunzel muttered the spell once more. Nikolai's eyes fluttered opened and he muttered something about fluffy persian kitties before passing out again. "He'll be fine. I hope." Rapunzel breathed unsteadily.

"Can he attend classes by Monday?" Merida asked, knowing that was a priority for a Ravenclaw.

"Even if he can't, he'd only need a few days off and could pull off a head cold as an excuse."

Suddenly, a blinding red light erupted from the back wall of the room like lava escaping from a volcano, and sitting in the corner of the room, Kelly was rubbing her head, grimacing in pain. "Ow."

"Ye did it!" Merida gasped, running over to Kelly to help her up. "Are ye ok?"

"I feel like someone branded something in the back of my head," Kelly muttered. "But I'm fine. Except for the fact I broke Nikolai's neck."

"He'll be fine," Rapunzel assured as the two Gryffindor girls ran over. Kelly leaned over Nikolai and slapped his face lightly. "I don't think that's going to wake him-"

Nikolai groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. "Who are you?"

"Kelly. Well, Mittens." She brushed her hair back behind her ears. Merida noticed how it was blond and brunette, resembling Mittens's brown-and-orange fur. Her pale skin explained the white paws. "I am so sorry."

"No, it's fine," Nikolai said, blinking slowly. "You're pretty."

"If you really think so, I must've had your head twisted really bad. Why don't I walk you back to Ravenclaw Tower?" Kelly said, helping Nikolai stand up. She put his arm over her shoulders and her arm around his waist for "balance", and the two walked out together.

"An' naturally," Merida muttered, "the cat gets the boy with the pretty eyes at the end o' the day."

"Well, they'd be good together," Rapunzel said with a shrug. "They're both Animagi."

"Yeah. Did he seriously think we'd believe all o' that 'my-friend-is-an-Animagus-that's-the-only-reason-I-know-so-much' bull?"

"Obviously, he did."

"Bloody brilliant, Ravenclaws are."

"Oh, hush!"


	6. Boggart Bedtime Stories

Rapunzel's POV: Third Year

"A knife," Rapunzel found herself admitting. She comforted herself in that it was a totally normal fear, and as long as she didn't elaborate that her big fear was a knife cutting her hair, her secret would remain hidden. "You?"

Jack shrugged. "It doesn't really matter."

"Jack! You spent the last half hour pestering me on what my Boggart is. And when I finally tell you mine, you decide you won't tell me yours? You are so cold."

Jack was swinging his feet over the ledge of the window they perched on together like a little kid, leaning forward into the early September winds. Rapunzel looked away from him, both delighted and annoyed with the smile discretely poking at the corners of his mouth, and out into the nightfall. They'd left dinner early to come and talk about the Boggarts they'd been introduced to in Defense Against the Dark Arts, because Jack, being the best DADA student Rapunzel knew, made her feel safest after the in-class hands-on approach to Boggarts. Even though they really talked about nothing of grand importance, it made her feel better just to talk with someone about the ordeal.

"Curfew's pretty soon," Rapunzel said, eyeing the clock on the wall behind them.

Jack smirked. "Yeah. It's not fair. Fifth-years and up get a 9:00 while we have to be in our dorms by 8. And that doesn't even let up on the weekends. It's a Friday, for crying out loud."

"Well, it's not like you can't stay up later in your dorm with your friends."

"Yeah, but what if you have friends from other houses?" Jack leaned over and nudged Rapunzel's shoulder with his own. "I'm just saying I don't want to have some old professors in some old castle telling me when I can and when I can't talk to my friends outside of Slytherin."

Rapunzel blushed. "I guess so. But what are you going to do about it?"

"Gee, that's a tough one. Break curfew?"

Rapunzel looked at him for a short while before shaking her head. "You can't be serious."

"Yeah. Let's go find a place to hide." Jack swung his legs around the windowsill back into the castle and jumped down onto the floor, grabbing Rapunzel's hands and pulling her down with him.

"Wait, 'let's'? As in, 'let us'? Us, as in, we?"

"What's the matter, you scared?"

"Jackson Frost, I most certainly am not and you know that!"

"Goody-two-shoes doesn't want to break the rules, huh?"

"…I'm not breaking the rules. I'm supervising while _you_ break the rules."

Jack smiled as if he was about to shove a firecracker down the back of her school robes, grabbed her hand, and took of running down the halls. They checked behind statues, portraits, suits of armor, Quidditch trophy cases, and more, but they couldn't find anywhere to hide. After a long time of searching, they heard voices coming around the corner.

"Quick! That door!" Jack pointed to a door across the hall. He sprinted down quickly, Rapunzel after him.

"Wait! Where does that door lead? I don't think I've ever seen it before. There's only nine doors on this wing-"

"That's fantastic. Now, hide!" Jack swung the door open, put his hand on Rapunzel's back, and pushed her in gently before going in the room himself. He swung the door shut behind them, and they pressed their backs against it, looking at each other in utter silence for quite some time. "I think they're gone."

Rapunzel tore her gaze away. "I think you're right." The room was awfully dark, no light whatsoever, so she pulled out her want and cast a light charm. "Whoa." Rapunzel walked closer to the center, Jack close behind her. The room was a perfect circle, maybe six meters (twenty feet) in diameter. She looked up and saw the ceiling towering so high, she had to search quite a while to find it. There were no windows and no doors except the one they'd come through.

"What is this room?" Jack asked, bewildered.

"The Room of Requirement," Rapunzel gasped. "It was in _Hogwarts: A History_. It's a magical room that appears only to those who need it and takes on the form necessary for its occupants. That's why we've never seen the door before."

Jack whistled as he gazed into the high ceiling. "It's like the school is telling us to break curfew." Jack walked to the wall opposite the door and sat down, leaning against the wall behind him.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting comfortable. We need to wait until everyone's long in bed before we try to leave. Even then, the Prefects patrol the halls after hours to make sure no one breaks curfew. And then there's Filch."

Rapunzel's stomach did an ominous flip. She never though about sneaking back into Ravenclaw Tower after curfew. "Are we even going to be able to leave?"

"Don't look so scared, Rapunzel. C'mon." Jack patted the floor next to him. "Sit."

Rapunzel rolled her eyes and sat down behind Jack, hugging her knees to her chest in the darkness. "Now what?"

"Well, I'm breaking curfew just to talk with you. You should be flattered."

"Believe me. I'm absolutely swooning."

"Let's talk, then. How was your day today?" Jack said in a mocking tone.

"Absolutely wonderful. Although I do remember encountering this one rude guy… after I told him my Boggart, he refused to confide in me his."

Jack shook his head. "You can't blame him. Boggarts are quite terrifying."

"Boggarts aren't terrifying. It's the form they take that makes me want to hide in Mother's tower for the rest of my life."

"Yeah. Fearing Boggarts is like fearing your own mind. That's all the Boggarts feed off of, after all."

"You're right. Nothing's more powerful than the human imagination. It can be as scary, if not scarier, than Boggarts."

"I'll take you up on that challenge."

"Huh?"

"Rapunzel Gothel, I shall tell you a horror story tonight, one of the fear and darkness that loom over this desolate, reprobate world."

Rapunzel laughed; she genuinely threw her head forward as the humor ate her up. Jack could be absolutely ridiculous sometimes. And he would only act so ridiculous when it was just the two of them hanging out, whatever that was about. "Are you trying to scare me?"

"More like preparing to."

"It's not going to work."

"Fine; let's make a bet. If my story scares you, I don't have to tell you my Boggart. If it does, I don't have to tell you anything."

Rapunzel's shoulders slumped. She wouldn't let on, but she was easily scared by a lot of things. "It's a bet. And I promise I won't lie, regarding whether or not it scares me. You know me better than that."

Jack chuckled lightly. "I don't think you could lie if you tried. But one more thing. Put out your wand's light."

"_Nox_," she whispered, and the room when dark.

Rapunzel couldn't see a single thing. She heard Jack breathing beside her and found it comforting. Her stomach started twisting, and she felt a little funny inside when she felt him scoot closer to her, the palm of his hand pressing against her nose. "Wait; I can't see. Is this you?"

Rapunzel laughed and pulled his hand away. "Yes, this is me. I'm right here."

"Gotcha." He put an arm around her shoulder, and the confusing, scary, delightful feeling in Rapunzel's gut seemed to swell. What was going on? "You ready?"

Rapunzel nodded bashfully before remembering he couldn't see her nodding anyway. "I'm ready."

* * *

There once was a young boy who lived in a cabin in the woods with his mother and father. He wasn't a very good boy, to be completely honest. He never ate his vegetables at dinner. He always stopped to climb trees and play everyday when he was supposed to be walking to school. He always talked in class, and teachers would rap his knuckles with rulers. Nearly everyday he was sent home with a note of bad conduct for his parents. He would complain about doing his chores and taking baths and wearing shoes.

Despite his teachers at school constantly telling his parents what a horribly behaved boy he was in class, and despite how stubborn he could be at home, his parents loved him very, very much. And he loved them as well. They were a great family. Nevertheless, the little boy wanted more. This boy wanted a younger brother more than anything in the world. But he knew that would never happen, because his family was already very, very poor.

The boy's fifth birthday came around, and since it was so close to Christmas, his family celebrated the two holidays as one. Besides, his family didn't have enough money for both occasions individually. His parents told him they only had one present for him that year, but it was one very big important present. It didn't come in a box or a stocking over the fireplace. It was a special surprise that his parents had kept from him until Christmas morning. Finally, the day came, and his mother and father told him the big news: they were expecting another child. He would finally have the younger brother he always wanted.

It was the best Christmas present in the world for him, but, of course, he had to wait a few months until, eventually, in the summer, his mother gave birth to a healthy, happy, adorable baby girl. The little boy was very upset and even refused to look at the baby girl for the first few weeks. Eventually, he became accustomed to the fact that his younger sibling was a girl and slowly began to tolerate her. Then, he began to help his mother with taking care of the baby girl when asked without arguing. Then, he began to maybe even like the little girl a bit. Then, he began to help out with the baby girl and around the house without being asked. He started doing more chores. His grades in school started going up. He behaved better in and out of school. His baby sister had a huge impact on his life and made him a better person, because he wanted to protect her and be someone she could look up to.

Years passed. Finally, the little girl was six years old, ready to leave the pre-school she attended and instead go to normal school with her older brother. Now, the brother and sister grew up in a very small settlement that spread over hundreds of acres of forest but was sparsely populated, meaning the nearest schoolhouse was a walk that could take up to half an hour. The big brother was worried for his sister, that she wouldn't be able to handle the long distance there and back at such a young age. So, the summer before she started school, he spent days walking the distance back and forth with her, preparing her for the long journey.

One day towards the end of summer, the boy and his sister ran into three other boys from the brother's school. They were a few years older, and had a well-known reputation for being school bullies. "Well, well, well," the largest, the leader of the group, said as he approached the boy and his sister. "If it isn't the little walking fish stick!"

The brother clenched his fists. He knew this wasn't going to be good. "What do you want?"

"Whoa! What's with the attitude?" the second boy said. The third one approached close behind, tossing what the brother assumed was a large sack of marbles back and forth in his hands.

The little girl tugged on her brother's shirt. "Who are they?"

"Sh," the brother warned, reaching his hands around to grip her shoulders maybe a little too tightly.

"Aw," the first one crooned. "How adorable, don't you think, fellas?"

The third one, the one with the sack of marbles, smirked. "I can't take the cuteness."

The leader walked towards the boy and his sister, crouching down besides her. "And what's your name, little angel?"

The naive young girl let her guard down, holding out her hand to introduce herself. The bully gripped her arm and twisted her away from her brother. "Hey!" the brother screamed as he charged the bully. The bully threw the little girl towards the second boy and grabbed the brother firmly by the shoulders, pinning him to the ground. For a while, the bully entertained himself by letting the brother get up in a panic just to be shoved down again. "Let my sister go _now_," the brother growled, scooting away from the bullies and finally getting to stand up without being pushed to the ground. His shirt was ripped and torn, and a bloody jagged cut scraped from his left cheek to underneath his chin.

The second boy pinned the young girl's arms even tighter behind her back. "Hey! I got an idea." He was eyeing the sack of marbles in the third boy's hand. The third boy got the message and pulled off the string that tied the bag shut with his teeth.

The brother charged forward, but the main bully slung off his belt and whipped the brother harshly across the arm before pushing him down and dragging him over to a nearby tree. The bully used the belt to tie the brother snugly against the tree in a sitting position. "Watch this, mama's boy," he laughed, kicking the brother harshly in the side once more.

The third boy tipped the sack of marbles out onto the ground to reveal that the sack wasn't full of marbles but tiny sharp rocks. The second boy threw the sister to the ground, and all three bullies surrounded her and began pelting the little girl with the small stones. She screamed deafeningly as she curled up into a ball, sheltering her head with her hands.

"Stop it!" the brother yelled, choking on a sob. "I said stop it!" The bullies only laughed harder. One of them stopped for a second to throw a particularly sharp rock at the brother, who was hit in the temple. The brother didn't pass out, but the sharp pain made him scream, and his vision blacked out for a couple of seconds. For a while, there was nothing to the brother except for the sound of laughter and his sister crying out for him.

The brother desperately tried to undo the belt, screaming out to his sister that he was coming, he was trying, he wouldn't fail her. The brother couldn't pinpoint when, but at some point, his little sister stopped crying out to him. She just laid on the forest floor, unmoving. The bullies ran out of rocks and had to reuse the ones already thrown, picking various stones off the ground. Some were tinted with blood. They were still laughing.

"Enough!" the brother screamed with a desperate sob. Suddenly, the strangest thing happened. A loud boom popped the brother's ears and a sharp fast wind blew harshly at the bullies, so hard that it picked them up off the ground and threw them back ten meters. Lightning cracked at the forest, and various trees around the area began exploding in fires. The bullies stood up, screaming as they clawed at their faces, moaning about how everything had gone dark and they couldn't see a single thing. The brother stood up, running his hands through his hair. Wait. He stood up. His arms were free. He looked down at the tree behind him and saw it had frozen into a block of ice, and the belt that had once tied him was a smoking pile of ashes. But only one sight disturbed him. The sight of his sister, curled up in a bloody beaten and bruised lump.

He rushed over to her and turned her body over to lie on her back. The brother didn't know how to feel for pulse, but he could scarcely feel or hear his sister's tiny breaths. For a moment, he feared she was dead and he watched her get killed. For a moment, he believed he was responsible for it all.

The brother gently picked up his sister's body and sprinted back home. They were a good ten minute walk away, but the brother's fear seemed to melt the area around him, as if the forest was compressing. He felt like he was becoming one with the winds as he dashed in between the trees, running desperately for her sake. Almost as if he manipulated the very time of the earth, he managed to get home in three minutes.

His mother was waiting at the door, looking panicked. She couldn't have known what just happened; something must've happened at home while the brother and sister were gone. But when the mother saw her daughter lying lifeless in the brother's arms, everything seemed to collapse. "What happened?"

"I'm sorry, mother, I tried. There were these bullies and I couldn't get to her in time. I'm sorry."

"Get inside. Now." She turned back into the house, screaming, "If you are who you claim to be, you better fix my daughter!" The mother fell to the floor onto her knees, crossing herself and praying. The boy's mother was very religious, and she looked utterly terrified. When the brother entered the house, he saw why.

There was an old man with a long white beard, almost waist-length, standing against the wall. He had long flowing robes and a pointy hat. In his hand, he twirled a long white stick, well over a foot long.

"You're a witch," the boy gasped as the man approached, raising his wand. The brother screamed in protest and backed away, but he only fell a few steps back against the wall. The old man touched his wand to his little sister's forehead and frowned.

"Her injuries are severe, yes, but not incurable. She should awake in an hour. Pray set her down in a bed. Get a hot water bottle for her head." The old man had a British accent that made the brother sink comfortably into cognizance, and he began obeying instructions, getting his sister into the best position for recovery. His mother was kneeling on the floor, hands still clasped in prayer as she cast horrified glances towards the old man. The boy knew why. Witchcraft trials were all too common in this area, and there were many wizards constantly put to death everyday for various crimes such as murdering, torturing, or summoning demons for possession. His mother, being religious, believed that this was the work of the devil, Lucifer, seizing the world as they knew it and fulfilling the prophecies of end times. Given that the year was 1666, she was more anxious than ever.

As these thoughts flooded the brother's mind, he became more and more agitated. But he needed to get his sister cared for before he worried about this strange visitor. Besides, the old Briton cured his sister. Certainly he deserved a little trust.

Of course, the mother was on the other side of matters. "I will report you to the council, you witch," she said, crossing herself repeatedly as she stood up unstably. She then held out a shaking hand and called, "Be gone from him, demons!"

The old man had a look of concern, not offense, in his clear blue eyes as he approached the woman. He held her hand in both of his, and she nearly collapsed from fear. "Madam, I wish you no harm. And I am not a witch. I am a warlock."

"Don't touch my mother," the boy said, standing up. He approached the man slowly. The old man didn't mean them harm; the boy was sure of that. But he needed to act wary for the comfort of his mother.

"My apologies," the old man said, his lulling British accent causing the mother's shoulders to relax. The warlock bowed his head towards the woman.

The mother shook wildly. "Wizard, witch, warlock, sorcerer. I don't care. I will report you to the council!"

"If you wish to alert the council of a sorcerer living among you in this settlement, you best start with your son."

The boy opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. The phenomenon in the forest. He burned trees. He summoned winds. When he got the bullies to go away, he may have even blinded them. He turned to his mother in despair.

"Son," she said, her voice low. She stopped shaking, which made the scene even more terrifying.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Wizards and witches are just human beings with magical powers. These do not conflict with your religious beliefs," the old man said, bowing respectfully towards the mother. "In the same way gender or race do not determine one's value, neither does magical ability."

"I'm confused," the mother said, shaking her head. "My son is not evil."

"Neither are most wizards. Most." The old man shrugged. "But your son is a wizard. One of many all over the world. Normally, wizards and witches respectively sire and birth magical children. And Muggle... that's a term that means non-magical human, dear. Muggles produce Muggle offspring. Occasionally, a child with Muggle parents will be born with magical powers. This is called a Muggle-born witch or wizard. Your son is a Muggle-born wizard. And pardon my impertinence, but you should be extremely proud, not cowering from your own flesh and blood."

"I'm a wizard. I'm going to hell," the boy whispered, running his hands through his dark hair.

"Certainly not!" the warlock gasped. "You are just another human being, except magical. That is no concern of any deity you believe in."

The boy didn't really know if he believed in any of the stuff his mother believed in, but he knew one thing for sure: magical people were dangerous and evil and if a hell existed that was where he was headed, if he was indeed magic. "What makes you say that?"

"If you use your magic to do good things, say, save young girls who were beaten by bullies, why would you be damned?"

"While defending her I nearly burned down a forest and blinded the bullies."

His mother shrieked, covering her mouth. The British man smiled. He smiled. He was actually smiling at such a deed. "What a pure heart! Sympathy for those who are undeserving. No worries; I can find the boys and fix whatever hex you cast. You have great potential, young sir."

"Potential? Potential for what" The boy suddenly thought of something. "Why are you here?"

"To recruit you to my wizarding school."

_That_ was so not happening. But now wasn't the time. "No, I mean, why are you... how did you find me? How did you even know I was... who I was?" the boy gestured to himself.

The old wizard drew his lips into a tight line. "By means of magic."

It was obvious that was going to be the best answer the boy got. "Well, I'm not going to your school."

"You must," the old warlock said. "You're eleven, correct?"

"Eleven and a half."

"Then you will start September first. My boy, if you do not attend a special wizardry school, you will not learn to get your magic under control. If you cannot control your magic, you will get caught as a wizard and be executed by Muggles."

"Let me die. I'm a monster anyway."

"No!" the mother screamed, rushing towards her son. She held him tightly in a hug to be nearly suffocating him. "Sir, you will not threaten my son with death."

"I am not threatening. I am stating reality. He must be taken to a school to learn to use his magic for good. Unfortunately, in the Americas, the Sorcery State (which is your magical government) does not trust Muggles or their magical children due to the magical persecutions, and neither does the Salem Witch Institute, the wizardry school for the colonies. Normally, your family would have been notified of your son's magic on his eleventh birthday by the Sorcery State. As you see, that could not and did not happen. Because of these persecutions, Muggle-born wizards and witches must be transported across the Atlantic for their education. Britain's magical school, Hogwarts, and our government, the Ministry of Magic (of which I am a most humble unofficial representative) still recruits Muggle-borns for education. They must partake in schooling far away for their own safety. And the safety of their families."

The boy cast a glance towards his sister, and his mother followed his eyes. "I will discuss this with your father when he gets home," she said, her voice tight. "Do stay for dinner, Mister..."

"Dumbledore. Professor, preferably, not mister"

"Professor Dumbledore. Do stay for dinner, sir." The invitation was obviously a formality.

"I would be delighted." The mother wiped her hands on her apron and headed back into the kitchen to prepare the meal early. The boy was left alone with the visitor, and to avoid awkward small talk, he decided to tend to his sister. The old man didn't get the social cue and continued discussing matters with the boy. "I understand you are confused and upset."

The boy turned back to the wizard. "Now, whatever would make you think so, _Professor_?"

"And rather terrified, I see." The boy didn't respond and returned to tending to his sister. "I apologize for any impoliteness I may have offended your mother with. See, I knew your mother would be very suspicious of a smooth-talking, polite elderly warlock insisting to take away her only son whom she loves very much. I knew I had to be harsh to show my honesty and sincerity. If I disturbed your family's grace, I offer my utmost apologies. I only desire your trust. I do care for what is best for you."

"I don't care about your school. I just care about my sister," the boy grumbled, holding her hand. It was getting warmer. "Is she magic too?"

"Too young to be certain, but most likely not."

"I can't leave her."

"You will see her over summer and the winter holidays."

"I cannot leave her." The brother couldn't even tear his eyes off her. The sunken eyes, the bloody nose, the sickly thin limbs and pale lips, the nimble fingers and stringy brown hair. "But if I don't leave her, I'm just going to hurt her." Her ghost danced before his eyes and right then and there that little boy swore no harm would ever come to his sister ever again.

* * *

Rapunzel shuddered in the darkness. The main reason the story scared her was because she knew it was true. She knew who it was about. "So that's your Boggart. Your sister's dead body." Jack ran his fingers through his hair, and Rapunzel plunged on. "Of course, a deal's a deal, and you don't have to tell me whether or not that's your Boggart because your story did scare me, and we agreed-"

"So you figured out that's my story. Like, not mine as in I made it up, but mine as in... you know."

"Jack. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to figure out." But Rapunzel knew Jack had trusted her with something big. His arm, which had been around her shoulders and holding her closely at the beginning around the story, now looped stiffly over her, as if the only way to keep himself from shivering in fear and dread was to clench his muscles harshly. Rapunzel leaned into him, her head nuzzled close to his chest, in an attempt to comfort him. Sure enough, she heard Jack's exhale of contentment as his chest moved underneath her. He brought his other arm around and held her in a hug, the side of his face resting atop her hair. The lack of distance between them felt strange. She certainly liked it, though.

"No more scary stories," he mumbled.

"Well… what do you want to do now?"

"Nothing. Just stay with me for a while."

And so she did.


End file.
